


Don Brewing

by mushi6618



Series: From The First To The Last [3]
Category: Beetlejuice (1988), Beetlejuice (TV 1989)
Genre: Afterlife, Aged-Up Character(s), Awkward Dates, Bad Jokes, Bad Puns, Best Friends, Bows & Arrows, Break Up, Character Death, Claires Excessive Use Of The Word Like, Confusion, Courtroom Drama, Courtship, Dancing, Donny Might Be OOC, Drama & Romance, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Falling In Love, Fandom Allusions & Cliches & References, Fire Powers, Fireworks, First Kiss, Fluff and Crack, Forbidden Love, Ghosts, Hereafter, Historical References, I Don't Even Know, I Saw Three Ships, I Will Go Down With This Ship, Interspecies Relationship(s), Legal Drama, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, Loss of Control, Love Confessions, Love/Hate, Lovejuice, Mistakes, Moral Dilemmas, Moving On, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Neitherworld, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Not Really Character Death, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Puns & Word Play, Romantic Friendship, Slow Build, True Love, True Love's Kiss, Veterinary Medicine, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Weirdness, realworld
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:36:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7946533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushi6618/pseuds/mushi6618
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place ten years after the events in Love Juice, a new face joins the Neitherworld. Beetlejuice and Lydia are dancing around their awkward relationship. Donny ends up losing his cool, and a new version of Ginger is catching the attention of a long-time friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Death of a Scream Queen

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this. 
> 
> *This story is in the process of being edited so please don't mind the fact that it might not get updated soon.

…

_June 18th 2002_

…

"College student dies in sauna at the fashionable tanning spa & salon: Tré-Sheek. Claire Brewster of the "New England" Brewster's, age 27, was found last Friday, June 16th 2002; deceased. It appeared, after one of her "ritual" manicure, pedicure, and full body tanning sessions, the young Fashion Major had stayed late – without permission from the owner or the staff – to use the sauna. Presumed to have slipped on a wet spot, she fell into the poorly marked "Out of Order" sauna that she had turned on, and knocked herself unconscious. The high temperature combined with Miss Brewster's lack of fluid intake that day lead to her cause of death; dehydration & heat stroke."

"What more does it say, Babes?"

"It just goes on about how fabulous Claire was, and how her parents are going to sue the salon." Replied Lydia.

"Sheesh, would have never guessed Brew-miser to keel over." Beetlejuice hovered above the floor in Lydia's apartment.

"I know… We'd just seen her five days ago at my birthday party." Lydia numbly sat down on her bed. "…I can't believe she's dead." She stared blankly at the floor.

"Awe Lyds, don't let this get ya _down_ …" His entire body sank to the floor as a puddle. "…I'm sure the Scream-Queen's is in a better place."

"Do you think she went to the …Neitherworld?" Lydia didn't want to ask about the other option; the Hereafter.

"Eh! I sure hope _not_ , Babes!" Beetle said without thinking. "I mean, uh, we can only **hope** so!" He tried to give her his please-buy-it smile. "'Sides, when we see her we'll get to celebrate her Deathday!" Beetlejuice became a giant party popper, pulled his string, and shot black  & white confetti all over Lydia and her bedroom.

"Beej, that's not very funny." She dusted some of the paper bits off and watched as he transformed back into his humanoid appearance.

"Yeah, I know Babes…" He was wanted to cheer her up. "…but if I see her I'll let ya know, kay?"

"Really?"

"Really, really." He gave her two red tipped thumbs up.

Lydia stood up and hugged him. "Thanks, Beetlejuice." The alarm on Lydia's Droolex went off. "Oh, shoot! I'm gonna be late for biology!"

 _'Speakin' of biology…'_ Beetle thought. _'Lyds sure did transform into one hell of a woman.'_ Now twenty-seven Lydia had the world at her fingertips, but she still choose to hang out with her best friend: the self proclaimed "Ghost with the Most". Beetle sighed, he'd wanted to change their relationship since the girl's eighteenth birthday.

"Alright Lyds, I got some stuff ta work out in the Neitherworld…" His fingers itched to touch her.

"Ok Beetlejuice, I'll see you at dinner!" Then she gave him one of the wicked smiles he'd taught her. "Beetlejuice!" At the sound of his name for the third time the Curse of Three activated and he soon found himself looking at Lydia through the glass of her old bedroom mirror.

Beetle relaxed in the comforting connection the mirror provided him between their worlds and was glad that Lydia had taken the mirror with her when she'd moved out of her parent's house. _'This mirror allows me to tap in and channel my name's power, without it I'd have to wait three months before I could secure another Mirror-Bridge.'_ The mirror provided a vintage point to concentrate his available Juice on, allowed easy travel between worlds, and ensured that neither party got lost in the Limbo that divided the two dimensions.

Leaning against the glass he fogged up part of the mirror and drew a small heart. He'd been dropping tiny hints like these since he'd met the Goth, but everyday she grew older the little sayings & gestures began to change their meanings.' _...an 'so am I.'_

"Bye Babes, love ya."

"Bye BJ, love you too!"

 _'Powers That Be, I could live off the warm feeling she gives me.'_ He thought and watched Lydia walk out of the small apartment. "Agh, time ta get ta business." Beetlejuice said to the empty room and disappeared out of the mirror.

…

"Like, _**EX-CUSE** ME_ , I have like, a photo shoot in like, an hour!"

"Please Miss…" She checked her files on new arrivals. "… _Brewster_ , just take a number and sit down." Pat Swivel pointed to the ticket machine.

"AH! I like can't believe this!" She ripped a number from the machine. "Like 53,023,490,681,047? Is this like, some kind of joke?"

When the teller at the window ignored the girl for what seemed the hundredth time Claire finally took the hint and stomped back to her seat next to a man who, from the amount of gore, gotten into a fight with a blender. As long as he didn't get any of his blue blood on her – she didn't care who she sat next too.

"I like, **HATE** this place…" She seethed to anyone who'd listen.

Not only was she still wearing yesterday's style: a cute pink button down shirt, black tie, & jean mini-skirt, but her tan had left her flawless skin an angry orange-red. Despite all her attempts at fixing her hair it seemed to fall back into disorder and she'd already chipped most of her mani-pedi.

"This is like, soooo unfair." She kicked at the cheap cracked linoleum with one of her salon sandals.

Remembering the salon she tried to recall what had happened. After setting the sauna she'd went to go get her bottle of expensive brand named water and slipped on a puddle of water some low-level employee had forgotten to mop up. She remembered falling backwards into the sauna and then blacking out. When she'd woken up, Claire was sitting in the exact same chair she currently resided in.

"Like, could this like, get any worse!" Grabbing the mirror she kept on her person at all times she looked at herself. "LIKE: AHHHHHHHHHH!"

Everyone in the room jumped and stared at her.

"I like, I have-" She paused for dramatic effect. "- like _dark circles_ under my eyes!"

Most ghosts shook their heads at the newbie's antics. Several ghosts went back to reading their Handbook for the Recently Deceased. Claire wanted to scream once more; everyone was ignoring her. Picking up her own copy of the book she began to flip through it.

"Like, this thing reads like, Ikea instructions."

"Scum-de-dum-dum-dum."

At the sound of the oddly familiar tune the blonde-valley girl looked up from the boring book. Claire's eye's literally popped out of their sockets. Pushing her eyeballs back into her head she took a good look at the man whistling the odd tune.

 _'It can't be…'_ Claire thought. _'…Mr. Beetleman?'_ The black  & white striped suit was hard to miss from space let alone from across a room. From the smell of him, she knew it was the freaky-weird Dandy Handy-Man that always hung out with the Peaceful Pine's local Goth-girl Lydia Deetz.

Now don't get her wrong, Claire would never admit that she wasn't the smartest apple on the tree, but even she understood that Living people didn't float, were all different colors, and still moved while cut in half. Somewhere in the back of her mind Claire knew she was dead. However, seeing Mr. Beetleman float into the waiting room did she realize he was dead as well.

"Like, O.M.G." Her mouth fell open. Briefly, she wondered how Lydia would take the news that her favorite handy-man had kicked the bucket. "The Freak would like, **freak** …"

Strangely silent she watched the man's exchange with the teller and the more she watched the wider her eyes became. Although she couldn't hear what they were talking about she'd gotten the gist from their body language. Beetleman threw a line at the woman, she rebuked, he got mad & made a face, she seemed to tell him to stick it, and he countered with… a belch.

"Yuck like, what a gross like, display." Despite her disgust Claire was entranced. As a natural gossip, Claire was curious about things that were seemingly interesting.

The teller had fallen over behind the counter and Mr. Beetleman took advantage of the situation to waltz, unhindered, right through the doors. Since Mr. Beetleman had always been a mystery to the valley-girl and happened to be the only familiar face she'd seen since waking up, Claire followed him. The room she entered had four doors.

"Ugh, like, which one did he like, take?" Claire closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. A minute later the same nasty smell from earlier assaulted her senses. Following her nose, Claire walked over to one of the doors and opened her eyes. "Like, I hope this is the right one." Her hand turned the knob and opened the door. Stepping inside Claire's eyes immediately adjusted to the darkness. _'Like, that's not normal.'_ She thought. What she saw scared her: behind a podium stood a large man with a very, very, very small head. Claire watched as he yelled at Mr. Beetleman.

"Do you have ANY idea how many times you've pranked the major this month, Beetlejuice? And you're asking me to **HELP** you?"

"Awe, come on Smallhead, this is fer Lydia."

"Mmm… I suppose if it's for Miss Lydia…"

"Lyds is really _bent outta shape_ about findin' out if she's here." His body bent itself unnaturally several different ways.

"Fine, fine. I'll go check the records, but you're still under warrant."

 _'Beetlejuice?'_ Thought Claire. _'Like, where have I heard that name before? And like, why are they talking about Lydia? How is like, Mr. Beetleman pulling off that like, crazy stunt?'_

Then everything came together to form one crystal clear picture.

Claire's mind made the mental jump: What if Mr. Beetleman didn't recently die, but had been dead for the past fifteen years? It all clicked perfectly into place. It was impossible for all her prior incidents in life to be coincidence. Before the Deetz's moved into Peaceful Pines the town had been considered normal and peaceful.

Then weirdness started.

Ever since she met Lydia Deetz in the seventh grade strange and unusual things start to happen to her. Claire had more nightmares in that first year than in her previous thirteen years of life. Whenever she seen Lydia, the girl was always accompanied by some sort of black & white striped object or Mr. Beetleman or ( _and this was a stretch for her imagination_ ) Betty Juice.

"Oh my, oh my, oh my…" _'Like, I'm dead! How can I be like, hyperventilating?'_ Claire thought randomly. "…he's a GH-GHOST!" _'And like, so am I.'_ Her mind spun.

"Who's there?" Smallhead shouted in Claire's direction. "Show yourself!"

"Yeah, show yourself!" Beetlejuice got in a stance, ready to scare. A frightened Claire slowly walked towards the two ghosts who were standing in the lone spot light. Standing just outside the beam of light she held herself to calm her shaking form. Beetlejuice's mouth dropped open at the sight of her.

"Br-Brewster? Is that you?" Beetle went to step towards her.

"St-Stay back!" Claire held out her hands to stop him. "Don't like, c-come any closer!"

"Um, Beetlejuice?" Smallhead interrupted. "Is this the... _Miss Claire Brewster_ you wanted me to find in the records?"

"Yep, that's the one." Beetle shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. "Guess, I can go 'an tell Lyds the good news."

"Like good news? I'm like, dead!" Claire walked over to him and poked his chest. "How's that like, good news?" She angrily replied.

"Un-uh, I don't think so, Beetlejuice…" Smallhead intervened again. "…you still have to pay your fines or I'll send you to the SANDWORMS!"

"Oh please…" Beetlejuice blew a raspberry at the shrunken-head man. "I'd rather share my Roadhouse with Brewster here!" He gestured at the disgusted red faced valley-girl.

 _'Famous last words.'_ Thought Smallhead. "Very well, Mr. Beetlejuice." A file poofed into his hand. "What a coincidence, it seems that Miss Brewster needs a place to haunt, and since it would displease you – I think I'll assign her to your care!"

"Hey, hold on-"

"Like, wait a minute-"

Claire walked up to the podium the same time as Beetlejuice, and they both watched Smallhead hold up Claire's file. Beetlejuice and Claire eyed the large bright red stamp that said: APPROVED. Horrified, the two ghosts looked at each other.

"Look on the dark-side!" Smallhead smiled evilly at Beetle. "You no longer have to pay your fines Beetlejuice…" He turned to look at Claire. "…and you won't have to wait fifty years in the Waiting Room for an apartment." Collecting the papers he reached for the trap door handle. "I hope the both of you have an un-pleasant day!"

As soon as he said this he pulled the handle and the two ghosts in front of him disappeared.

"Ah, sometimes I love my job…" Smiled Smallhead.

…

Both screaming like maniacs, they fell from the ceiling into Beetlejuice's un-living room and landed on the crumbling couch. Beetle slowly tried to right himself as Claire quickly scrambled to stand up off the moldy furniture. Breathing heavy, Claire straitened her outfit before she addressed her new …roommate.

"YOU'RE DEAD!" Claire accused, pointing a finger at Beetlejuice.

"Yeah… no duh, Toots." Beetle began to dust off his striped sleeves. "Got anymore zingers?"

"Uh, um…" Claire froze up.

"Thought not…" He stood up. "…uh… so, um, …kid?" Beetle cringed. "Ya remember who I am, yet?"

"Uh, like yes." She eyed him nervously. "You're like, Mr. Beetleman."

"Hmph, 'suppose that'll do fer now…" He rolled his eyes. "Come on _Brew-miser_ , I'll show ya ta your room."

Without waiting for her, and not really caring if she followed him or not, Beetle made his way down the hall of the Roadhouse and past the two doors that were already occupied by his two annoying neighbors. Opening the door he snapped his fingers and Juiced-on the light. The room was bare, completely empty, and painted a lifeless shade of grey.

Leaning against the door he watched as Claire stuck her nose in. ' _Should slam the door on it._ ' He thought; but he didn't nor did he kick her into the room. "Hmph." He smiled wickedly. ' _Would'ta 'serve the kid right after all the stuff she put Lyds through.'_

"So I have to like, _live_ here?" Claire edged away from the room.

He snorted. "Nah, Toots."

"Really?" Hope sprung up inside Claire.

"Ya gotta _un-live_ here." He laughed.

"Th-That's not funny!"

Turning red once more the twenty-seven-forever valley-girl let the heat coming from her spirit's core surge. Her body temperature rose and Beetlejuice found himself backing away from her. He screamed in shocked fright as fire combusted the doorway and surrounded Claire's body. The fire swallowed the hallway and Beetlejuice. After Claire calmed down did she realize what she'd done: Beetlejuice had been burnt to a crisp, the hallway scorched black, and the door frame to her room melted into an odd shape. Looking down at herself she saw that her clothes and person hadn't been harmed.

"Like that's so…" For the first time Claire had a revelation. "…like not weird, it's so **cool**!" She laughed.

"No it's like, HOT!" Beetlejuice did an impression of Claire's voice after his body had un-charred itself. "What gives, _Claire-broiled_."

"I like… what happened?" Claire looked at him confused & scared.

"Ugh… I'll have Lyds come over an explain it ta ya tomorrow." He cracked his back. "In the mean time: leave me alone."

"Like whatever…" She watched as he turned to leave.

Beetlejuice walked away and left Claire in the still-smoking hallway. Feeling out of place and alone Claire stepped over the threshold into the barren room. _'Where am I going to sleep? And like, what is Lydia? A necro-marketer or something?'_ She thought spinning in a slow circle in the middle of the room.

"O.M.G." She eyed the grey walls. "Like, my life- oops!" Claire face-palmed. "Ugh, forgot: I'm like, dead. My afterlife is going to like, need a LOT of help…"


	2. Meeting of an Un-Lifetime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this. 
> 
> I figure if there is one person in the entire show that would get under Donny's skin, since even Beetlejuice can't rile him, it would be Claire. She's just too rude, air-headed, and snobby.

…

“Wait, wait, wait…” Lydia paced in front of her bed room mirror. “You’re telling me that Claire, _Claire Brewster_ , is now a **tenant** in the Roadhouse?”

“That’s what I said, Babes.” Beetle drolled out. “Kid’s there now fixin’ up her room.”

Lydia felt her stomach tie itself in knots. Sure, she knew dead people. Her best friend was a dead man, but this situation was different: Lydia never knew a living person and then met them after they died. She knew that one day her parents would die, and if they ended up in the Neitherworld, she’d go to see them – but she never expected _this._

‘ _How will I explain to Claire that I could come to and from the Neitherworld? Will Claire be jealous and try to leave?_ ’ Lydia tried to shake her head of the thoughts. “Do-Do you think it’s inappropriate for me t-to go over to see her?” Lydia nervously asked her hovering friend.

“BABES!” Beetle groaned. “This is _Brew-miser_ were talkin’ about here? Why would ya want ta go outta your way ta _see_ her?” He popped his eyes out and began juggling them.

“Because I **can,** and maybe, I don’t know…” Lydia sat down in front of the mirror and Beetle put his eyes back in. “…perhaps we could become friends or something.”

“WAH-hahahahahaha!!!” Beetle threw his head back and laughed. “Yo-You gotta be kiddin’ me?” She gave him her I’m-dead-serious face. “Lyds? Yo-You’re _not_ kiddin’…?”

“I’m serious, Beej.” Lydia sat silent for a moment and stared at her hairbrush. “Death changes people…”

Beetlejuice sighed. “M-Maybe your right Babes…” ‘ _Come on B-man, say it…_ ’ “...ya could help her get set up an all.”

Lydia’s eyes brightened. “You think so?”

“Ya bet it, Babes.” Beetlejuice rolled his eyes & grit his teeth. “…I’ll even help.”

“Thanks, Beej. You’re a true _best friend._ ”

Beetle closed his eyes as Lydia began writing a list of things down she knew Claire would need or want for her Neitherworldian room. ‘ _Friend._ ’ His mind would not let the word go. Opening his eyes he silently watched his _friend_.

“How I’d love to _change_ that…” He whispered to himself.

…

“LYDIA? Is that YOU?” Claire jumped on the Goth. “It like, **_is_** _you!_ And you’re like, still **_alive!_** ” Claire let her go. “How’s that like, _possible?_ And like, why do they call this place the _Neitherworld?_ O.M.G! Is that the new shade of Revlon lipstick?”

“Uh-ha, Claire one question at a time, ok?” Lydia backed away slightly. “BJ, told me you can conjure fire?”

“Like I totally can! Like picture it – _fabulous me_ – Claire Brewster can like, totally toast like, toast!”

“Yo Claire-bustion: you can’t toast “toast”. You toast _bread._ ” Beetle joked then turned to whisper to Lydia. “Definitely good chunk o’information ta know when buying furniture, eh Lyds? ‘Specially for a snob with an aggression issue.”

“You got that right.” She whispered back. “Alright Claire, what do you want to know?”

Lydia explained everything to Claire. It took a week, several boxes of tissues, and at least a dozen eye-screams. All too casually the two girls were idly chatting about everything from ghostly powers and Neitherworldian laws to family matters and what different types of eye shadows looked best on one another. Later on, they both got excited to go shopping in the Shocking Mall in order to find furniture to decorate Claire’s room. The ‘Ghost with the Most’ watched the two girl’s leave for the Mall in wonder. Lydia’s prediction had come true. Death _had_ changed Claire. Granted, she was still snobby, obnoxious, spoiled, mean and rude at times, but she had somehow toned it all down to a tolerable level.

Now, just because everyone conveniently decided to get along didn’t mean they stopped being the annoying man-child, the spoiled brat, or the gothic peace-keeper. The first three months were _pure torture_ for the residents that lived near or with the new hot head  & flamboyant troublemaker. Thankfully, with time came a level of comfort and norm.

…

_October 3 rd 2002_

…

The beginning of October signaled the trio’s milestone & things in the Roadhouse assumed a new state of abnormal. Beetlejuice’s original plan of having Lydia get Claire settled into the Roadhouse eventually worked out in his favor. He got to see his Gothic beauty ( _even more than usual_ ) on a daily basis and she kept the Burning-Brewster out of his hair.

The two girls slowly began to form a tongue-in-cheek friendship and even Beetlejuice found himself slowly befriending the ex-pompous valley-girl, but Claire’s new found "power" was a major hurdle for the tenants at BJ’s Roadhouse to get used to. For instance, Jacques LaLean found Claire to be scarier than Beetlejuice at times.

“Miss Lydia _pardon_ , but Miss Clairé, she v’ill not crémate me, no?”

“No Jac, I promise she won’t.”

“H’er temper ‘es worst than Beatlejoose’s!”

“Ha-ha… only on a _bad_ day…” Lydia tried to sound reassuring. “Just avoid her after she talks with BJ.”

“ _Oui_ , I shall try…” His eyes shifted nervously. “…for ze zake of my bones!”

…

Ginger on the other hand…

“So you’re our new hot-headed tenant?” The pink talking spider addressed Claire.

“Like, um, I am…” Claire backed away from the large arachnid. “Uh… Lydia like, that spider’s talking!”

“Oh, well _Hun_ I can dance too!” She stated in her Brooklyn accent. “Ha-cha! Cha-cha-cha! Ha-Cha!” She speedily tapped out. “TA-DAAA!!!”

“C-CLAIRE… Let. GO. You’re choking me.”

Claire had jumped up into Lydia’s arms in a poor attempt to get as far away from Ginger as possible. Releasing her grip on the Goth’s neck, but refusing to let go of Lydia completely, Claire wouldn’t get down with the giant spider still in her presence. Ginger, being polite and used to a few ghouls with arachnophobia, decided to leave the room.

“Is sh-she like, g-gone?”

“Yes Claire.” The blonde jumped out of her arms and Lydia rolled her eyes.

“Wow, she’s like, creepier than that French fitness skeleton!” Claire’s shoulders slumped. “I’m like, totally _never_ going to like, get used to this place…”

“Awe! Don’t worry _Hun,_ you will.”

At the sound of Ginger’s voice Claire screamed and jumped into the air. She hovered for a moment, then realized she was floating, and came crashing back down to the floor. With a sore rump she back up towards Lydia; she scanned the floor for the large spider. Claire only saw the two legs of a woman wearing incredibly cute tap-shoes.

“Ginger is that you?” Lydia said amazed.

The pale woman that stood in front of the two girls gave a bow. Ginger’s hair had stayed pink and she still wore her signature hat, but now she had the body of a human. Her outfit was swimsuit-like, and had a form fitting tuxedo-type sleeveless jacket with frilly linings only a spider could lace. Ginger’s wide hips led to two legs that were covered in spider-web patterned stockings.

“Yep, it’s me.” Blinking her jaundice yellow-pink eyes she smiled at the two young women before her and tapped out a line. “TA-DAAA!!!”

“Wow, Ginger you look great!” Lydia gushed and hugged her friend.

“You-You’re that spider?” Claire questioned, and Lydia stood back.

“Yeah, see _Hun_ back before I died, I had this thing about spiders – I thought if I had more legs my act would be better – so when I Crossed Over I decided to un-live my afterlife through Animal Reincarnation.” Ginger giggled. “I can only hold this form for so long though. My Web doesn’t spin enough power like you or Beetlejuice.”

“Deadly-voo…”

“Totally-fab…”

Claire and Lydia looked back at one another shocked, and then broke into fits of laughter. Ginger joined in for the fun of it and afterwards an idea stuck in her. The spider-woman had died at the young age of twenty-eight, and at the moment all three girls were practically the same age. They would look good together in a tap-line.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea! Why don’t I teach you girls some dance moves?”

“Oh Gin, I don-”

“Like, that would be FABULOUS, Miss Ginger!” Claire squealed in joy and excitement.

“Great! So Lydia-hun, have any ideas? Maybe ya could do a show or somethin’?” Ginger was just as excited as Claire. Lydia didn’t want to dampen the mood with the fact that her life was complicated and busy.

Things had been hectic enough when it was just her and Beetlejuice. The past three month’s had been a blessing thanks to summer break and the college she attended currently being closed, but now she was back in school. Lydia had a job at a local camera store and she volunteered at the homeless shelter. This month she took five classes during the semester, still helped Claire adjust to being dead, and tried to fit in at least one adventure a month with her best friend.

“Um, I guess… Halloween’s coming up? Maybe me and Claire could learn a short bit before then?” If she had Beetlejuice’s pun-power she would have turned into a sucker.

“Why that’s perfect!” Ginger hugged the two girls. “I’ll get started on the choreography!”

“And I’ll like, totally do the make-up!”

“I, um, I guess I’ll make the costumes?” Lydia sighed. ‘ _Now I’ll have to work in tap-dancing lessons and sewing into my schedule..._ ’ She thought fatigued.

“Great, this will be a show to remember!” Ginger tap-danced a specific beat and turned back into a spider. “Whooh, is that tirin’ on the soul.”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Claire ran screaming from the room at the sight of Ginger’s spider-form.

“CLAIRE!” Lydia dropped her head to her hands. “This is going to be  _fun_ …”

…

_October 6 th 2002_

…

“Like, where’s Lydia?” Asked Claire. ‘ _We have to practice our dance moves if we’re going to be ready by Halloween!_ ’ Claire thought, getting angry at Lydia’s busy-life outside of the Neitherworld.

“Ya know Bruise-ster, she does have a _life_.” Beetle grumbled from his spot on the couch. “Girls busy, get yer own _after **life**_ …”

“Like, don’t call me **Bruise** _-_ ster!”

Claire walked around the couch and jumped on the end of it sending the slouching poltergeist into the air. He landed on his rear with his bowl of Slime N’ Beetles atop his head. Abruptly standing up, he pointed a red tipped finger at Claire. She just laughed at him.

“That’s not funny, Cl- _AIR-Head!_ ” The pun took effect and Claire’s head turned into a balloon. “’Sides, with that **Heat** your packin’ I think it’s appropriate.” He magic-ed the bowl away.

“Oh like, put a sock in it.” After Beetlejuice actually put a sock in his mouth, Claire concentrated on her Heat. She made her spectral body’s temperature rise. The balloon expanded and when it popped her head re-appeared on her shoulders. “Like see, Beetlejuice, I’m like, getting the hang of this spirit-power-thing.” Since Claire had died in a super hot environment, whenever she got angry, fire would burst around her & the room would heat up.

“Agh! **_Heat_** , Brew-miser! Your ‘supposed ta call it your HEAT, it’s the same as when I call my power: JUICE!” Said Beetle, frustrated with the situation. “Givin’ your power a **_title_** helps ya ta control it.”

“Like, _whatever._ ” Claire folded her hands over her arms.

“ _YAUGH!_ How **many** times has Lyds gone over this with ya?”

“I like, can’t remember…” She walked over to where Beetlejuice stood. “…uh… like _eight_ I think?”

“Amazin’, Lyds takes time outta her _life_ ta help and ya can’t even remember somethin’ as simple as a Power Title.” Beetlejuice sneered.

“Like, I’ll have you know I’ve been like, _practicing!_ And why do you always take that Freaks side-”

“Ah, putta cork in it, Toots.”

A cork plugged Claire’s mouth.

"Ah, hahahahahahah... Now, that’s better!”

Claire spit out the cork. “Ha. _Ha. **Ha...**_ ” Claire’s eyes narrowed and snapped her fingers. “Like, very cute.” A ball of fire formed in her hand.

Beetlejuice’s eyes widened at the sight of the concentrated spirit energy; he slowly backed away from her. ‘ _Shoot, I’m still sore from the first time she learned that trick!_ ’ Beetle cringed.

“So how about we like, play a game of hot foot?” Claire held the fire ball up and pointed it in Beetlejuice’s direction. “I like, wonder if Lydia likes her Beetles well done or crispy?!” She laughed.

“YEOW!!!” Claire threw several balls of spectral fire at Beetlejuice’s feet, making him dance to avoid the flames. “LYDI-AHHHHH!” He poofed out of the un-living room.

Claire laughed so hard her corporal sides hurt. Scaring Beetlejuice with her spectral flame had become a sort-of fun pastime ever since she’d learned the trick, but she always found it odd that he would disappear afterwards to find Lydia. She wondered, after hearing most of the story from the neighboring residents, why they weren’t romantically involved.

“He like, totally digs her and like, does nothing about it…” She flipped her hair in annoyance.

The relationship between Beetlejuice and Lydia puzzled Claire. At first when the thought entered her mind that they might be a couple, she almost threw up, but then after watching the two interact she knew they were beating around the bush. Claire had always been slightly jealous of Lydia, and though she was NOT attracted to Beetlejuice in any way, shape, or form, she found the man had some weird visible charm. Claire laughed. She might, the smallest tiniest part of her, _might_ go out with him if he was the complete _opposite_ of himself.

Then there had been the _confrontation_. She spoke to them separately about their “best-friendship” and found that both of them talked about one another more as if they were in love than in an actual friendship. To Claire, it seemed like they were either too scared to bump up their relationship status or they were living/un-living in denial.

“Or like, both.” Claire shook her head at the spot where Beetlejuice had disappeared from. “Like, _best friends_ my _as-_ ”

_DING-DONG-YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!_

“Huh? Like, someone’s at the door.”

Claire turned and walked over to the front doors. Peering out the peep hole she felt her anger rise. From what she could see, Beetlejuice stood outside ringing the door bell. The valley-girl’s new found ghost powers began to melt the handle. Having un-lived for three months in the Roadhouse with Beetlejuice for a neighbor taught Claire that the poltergeist loved to play pranks, especially ones that were fashion-based, just to freak her out.

“Like HA! That un-fabulous hair cut and that like, tacky Mr. Rodgers outfit like, won’t scare me!” Claire hollered.

She grabbed the non-melted door handle with her left hand and formed a giant red spectral fire ball in her right hand. Concentrating her Heat into the palm, Claire made it swirl with her pink-colored essence. Smiling wickedly at the door, Claire threw it open, and shot the ball of flame at her unsuspecting victim.

“Like, TAKE **THAT**!”


	3. Dancing on Hearts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this.

…

_October 6 th 2002_

…

Earlier that day Donny had stopped by his parent’s house to discuss, in person, the details of this year’s holiday arrangements. The Juice family had been planning a holiday get-together for the past three centuries. The job came upon Donny when his mother had suggested that leaving the details to her younger son so that this year wouldn’t result in another year of separate family celebration. Used to dealing ( _out-right ignoring_ ) Beetlejuice’s unique brand of brotherly-love, Donny had decided to pay his dear older brother a visit and tell him the plans their parents had for this year’s Halloween.

‘ _Let’s see, mother will be there, father too… OH! An **finally** Beetlejuice and his… girl… friend?_ ’ Donny stopped short before pulling the on the doorbell. “Beetlejuice’s best friend… or girlfriend?” The question irked him. “Lydia Deetz.” ‘ _What is she to my brother?_ ’ Donny thought.

He heard plenty of rumors, and to be honest, he himself didn’t really believe the whole “best friend” excuse. Yes, they were still best friends and had been since his brother’s foolish Bio-exorcist scheme, but Lydia’s maturing had changed everything. When Lydia had been a child Donny would have never thought of the two as anything more, but now that the Goth was older.... you could practically cut the tension with a knife.

Granted, it didn’t matter to him the details of their arrangement. Donny just wanted to see his brother happy with the girl he’d fall in love with. Lydia being alive and Beetlejuice being dead didn’t bother him in the least; only the B.S. & P. would have something to say about it. He figured that ( _he tried not to think too much about it_ ) eventually Lydia would **die** & hopefully come to _un-live_ in the Neitherworld.

“I sure wish one of them would cross the line already...” Donny pulled on the door bell. “It’d be real swell to have a sister-in-law.” He chuckled.

_DING-DONG-YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!_

After a few minutes the door swung open.

“Hello Broth-” A large red-pink ball of fire smacked him in the face.

“Like, TAKE **THAT**!” Claire made the fire engulf the ghost. When the flames finally calmed down all that was left of Donny was a pile of ash with eyes and a mouth. “How’s that like, for **practice?** Ha-ha-ha!”

Now, it was common knowledge throughout the Neitherworld that the Juice family was old, and _all_ the members were powerful; although Beetlejuice was the most gifted and flamboyant. Donnyjuice wasn’t one to openly use his "Juice" and would rather work out a situation on his own. Of course, when your brother was _Beetlejuice_ … being burnt to a crisp wasn’t exactly new to him, plus having magical ghost powers came in handy.

Closing his eyes and concentrating Donny’s ashes popped out of existence and re-formed, visibly unharmed, in the living-dead room. Dusting himself off, a habit he’d picked up from his brother, Donny turned to look at his attacker. Even thought he didn’t need air, Donny’s breath caught in his throat. Flushing a darker shade of purple he eyed the young woman doing a victory dance in the entrance of the Roadhouse. ‘ _Oh my goodness…_ ’ He thought watching the young ghoul bounce up and down. The six hundred & forty-nine year old ghost found himself unintentionally salivating.

“YOU!” The blonde woman spun on her sandals turned to face him, her index finger pointing in his direction.

A strange surge of energy churned just below Donny’s stomach and a dumb-struck smile appeared on his face. Donny had never seen a ghoul whose eyes – beautiful blue eyes – held so much fiery passion. His mind began to melt as a strange sensation passed over his body, along with the thought that his trousers were suddenly shrinking. If ever asked Donny would admit that he felt himself attracted to women, but he had never scrounged up the need or the time to actively look for a mate. True in both his life & afterlife, and being a bachelor for centuries suited him just fine... that is, until Claire Brewster came stomping over to him and stuck her blue polished finger in his chest.

“I’m like, _really_ getting tired of these like, _fashion_ **_disasters_** Beetle-jerk!” Claire fumed.

Donny’s wide eyes blinked at her. He could feel heat seeping into his chest from where her finger jabbed him. ‘ _She thinks I’m Beetlejuice?_ ’ His smile faltered and felt strange surge of jealousy shoot through him. For centuries, Donny knew he could be his brother’s physical twin. Of course, there were a few small details: the way they cut their hair, their noses, teeth, weight, and personal hygiene, but he’d become used to people mistaking him for his trouble-making brother.

“Oh deary me, I’m sorry, but I’m _not_ Beetlejuice.” He took hold of girl’s hand that poked his chest. “My names _Donny_ … Donny Juice.” He kissed her hand. “Beetlejuice is my brother… and who might you be, Miss…?”

“Um…” Claire stood staring at him with her mouth hanging open; then her perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowed together. “Like, _yeah right._ ” Claire roughly pulled her hand free from Donny’s grasp and stepped back from him. “O.M.G. Like you **_pervert_**! I thought you like, _like-liked_ Lydia.”

Donny gave her a confused look.

“Ugh… **wow**. You’re really like, playing it _thick_ today aren’t you?” Claire’s body turned bright red.

“I can assure you, Madam, that I’m in no way my brother!” Donny waved his hands in front of her to calm the young woman down. “I can prove it.” Quickly, he dug out his Green-is-Keen license. “Here see.” Donny held up the plastic card with his picture and name on it. Claire’s temper only got worse. Beetlejuice had tried a similar stunt as a pretend make-up artist a month ago; he’d flashed Claire a similar license and turned her into a clown. Flames started to lick up the sides of her arms at the memory and the license Donny held melted from the heat.

“Gosh, th-that isn't very swell...” Claire grabbed Donny by his maroon sweat shirt. “Um, Miss..?”

“You like, **_know_** my name Beetle-brains. Or are you like, too _dumb_ to like, remember it?”

“Now please, Madam-” Claire threw him onto the crumbling couch. “Ye-ouch!”

“That’s for that time you like, _possessed_ me!” She held up her hand and formed another fire ball. “And this is for that stupid like, pretend-Prince act you pulled!”

“Now, now, now!!!” Donny put up his hands in defense. “I-I’m sure my brother is te-terribly sorry for all of those things!” She brought her arm back. “BUT I’m NOT **_BEETLEJUICE!_** ” Donny screamed. “Being able to say his name is **proof!** ”

“Like, proof? How’s that like, proof of anything?” Claire held the fire to his face.

“M-My brother suffers from the "Curse of Three", it’s a curse that seals most of his spiritual power in his name, and seals his mouth whenever he tries to say it himself. You see, in order to access his power, his name must be spoken three times.” Donny explained; Claire now concentrating on him let her fire die out. “Why do you think Lydia can freely travel between the worlds? It’s because most of Beetlejuice’s Juice is in his name!”

“Like figures… Lydia is like, ALWAYS getting all the worthwhile things in _life!_ ”

“Um, Madam… uh, you mean… _afterlife_ …?”

“AHHHHGH! I’m like, SO tired of everyone reminding me I’m **DEAD!** ” Fire once more surrounded her body; Donny recoiled from the flames. “Like, Lydia’s not DEAD and she like, gets to come and go as she PLEASES! That like, stupid death-romancing, bug-loving, freaky-weirdo-Goth!”

“Now hold on one second, Madam! I won’t have you say another hurtful word about Miss Lydia-”

Claire stood above him, hands on her hips and cut him off. “Stuff it you penny-loafer, stuffy-sweater, Pee-Wee-pervert-WANNA-BE!”

Donny’s mouth fell open and his jaw fell off onto his lap. He watched from his spot on the couch as Clair stomped her way up stairs. Not long after he’d put his jaw back on did his eyes pop out. ‘ _Gosh her skirt is … **short.**_ ’ His mind started to spiral. ‘ _Oh my, I’m starting to think like Beetlejuice!_ ’ Donny bit his lip and placed his eyeballs back in their sockets. Donny was good at ignoring most comments he got in his afterlife; he chose to take the higher road & let them not affect his bright personality.

Yet strangely, he remembered his brother had insulted him once a long, long, long time ago in a similar manner, but his time around the situation was different. The young woman wasn’t kin nor was she a friend. After listening to the young flame-throwing blonde, something inside Donny began to break. The young-woman had struck a chord. He didn’t know the reason why he found her attractive, and he wondered why he paid more attention to what _she_ said in particular.

Maybe, he felt the need to defend his brother’s future girlfriend? Heck, perhaps he just wanted to defend his brother? Getting a foreboding feeling Donny decided to follow her upstairs. While he didn’t know the specific rules of the Roadhouse, he knew from previous experiences, that NO ONE was allowed in Beetlejuice’s bedroom.

‘ _Well, with one **gothic** exception._ ’ Donny shook his head. “Peachy-keen, I have got to **STOP** thinking down that road…” He made a face as he ran up the steps to his brother’s room.

…

“Lydia! LYDIA! Answer this thing!” Claire rapped on the glass of the floor length mirror for the third time. “I like, KNOW this mirror is connected to you! Now like, PICK UP!”

“Madam, there is no need to yell. It’s not a phone.” He said trying to regain his composure from the smell in the room. “Listen Miss, my brother _dislikes_ when someone’s in his room; I think you should leave and go back downstairs.” Donny came up behind her and went to take her hand.

“Like, do you think I CARE?” Claire turned around and pushed Donny away.

“Ex-Excuse me Madam, but I will have no more of this- this disregard of my person!” Donny said in a stern voice. “Now _please_ , come downstairs.”

“Like, _no way._ ” She walked over to a pile of garbage and picked up the first thing she grabbed. “If Lydia won’t pay attention to me, then she won’t pay attention to her _boyfriend_ either!” Claire held the tennis racket up to the mirror.

“NO! PLEASE don’t! That mirror is-”

“Like, _serves_ them right!” She brought her arms back and swung at the mirror.

Time slowed down...

‘ _If she smashed the mirror it would ruin everything for my brother.’_ Donny thought. He was sure that this year Beetlejuice and Lydia would finally become a couple, and with the upcoming family get-together he couldn’t have BJ making Lydia promise to stay in the Realworld till another Mirror-Bridge was created. Lydia _needed_ to be here, in the Neitherworld, on Halloween.

Donny snapped.

His over-nice demeanor slipped away. Using his Juice, he zapped himself in front of the mirror. The tennis racket smacked Donny in his rib-cage. Startled Claire stepped back and tried to pull the racket from his grasp.

“G-Give it like, BACK!” Claire’s eyes burned as she yanked on the racket.

“NO! I won’t let you harm this mirror!”

He grabbed her upper arm and forced her away from the glass. Claire growled at the Beetle-look-alike and changed her own tactics. Following his example she pushed her weight forward and forced him backwards. Donny let go of the racket and it flew off into a pile of junk. Still holding onto Claire, Donny pulled her to the floor with him. Claire landed on top, briefly knocking the wind out of him, and then sat up. Grabbing both her arms Donny flipped their positions and proceed to pin them above her head while pressing her body against the floor.

“Madam, I’m not going to do anythi-” Claire kneed him in the groin and smashed her forehead against his. “AHHHhhhhhoooooowwwwwwwwww…”

“Those like, self-defense classes Dadsy made me take like, finally came in handy!”

Taking advantage of his pain Claire lit her hands on fire, grabbed his maroon sweater, and flipped their positions once more. Feeling the fire on her hands die down and realized she was losing power, Claire relaxed by putting all of her spectral weight on top Donny’s stomach; an effort to crush him. Donny went to reach for her one more time when something moved in the corner of his vision. Distracted by the mirror Claire took the opportunity to smack him. Focusing back on the woman atop him he blocked her next hit.

Then someone stepped out of the mirror.

“CLAIRE?” Lydia yelled. “What are you DOING!?”

Claire didn’t hear her as she straddled Donny. She attempted to stop him from bending his knees to side-throw her off of his lap. Angry and out of Heat, Claire’s hands were tiring to reach around Donny’s neck to strangle him. Donny tried to block the valley-girl’s attack by holding her arms away with his, but to Beetlejuice, who’d just entered the room, it looked like she’d been undoing his bow-tie. A shocked minute later, Beetle watched un-amused as his younger brother’s grip slipped, and Claire toppled forward allowing her chest to smother his brother’s face. He could have re-died laughing if he didn’t find it so disgusting and disturbing to watch.

That and it was all taking place in…

“ ** _MY ROOM!!!_** What are ya **DOIN’** in MY ROOM!” Hot steam shot the top of Beetlejuice’s skull off.

“Beej, please don’t flip your lid…” Lydia tried to calm Beetlejuice.

“Little late, Lyds.” He crossed his arms and looked away from _whatever_ his brother was doing with Brewster in his bedroom. “Ugh-yuck… I’m gonna have’ta _clean_ in here…”

Claire paused in her second attempt at making _boiled-Juice_ and finally noticed she wasn’t alone. Looking down at the ghost she held onto her blue eyes met his green ones and they both flushed fire-engine red. Donny paled a light shade of lilac and Claire averted her gaze.

“Donny? Claire?” Lydia avoided looking at them, her face red. “Br-Break it up, please.”

“He started it.” Claire tired to choke Donny again.

“Mis-Miss Lydia, it’s not what it _looks_ like…” Donny tried to verbally and physically defend himself. The younger Juice brother gabbed at Claire’s hands to keep her from hurting him further. Bucking his hips he threw her off, but she held onto the striped lapels of his maroon sweater. Sitting up, he tired to free himself from her grasp. All the while Beetlejuice stood out-of-character silent as he watched his younger brother act not-so-nice to his new neighbor.

“Claire, let him go.” Lydia asked. After several tense minutes Claire finally complied and sat Indian style on the floor as Lydia helped Donny up. “Donny? Are you alright?”

“Oh, why yes Miss Lydia, I’m- I’m just **fine.** Th-Thank you. My… uh, sweater took most of the _heat_.” He tried to joke for Lydia’s sake. He had a blacker-black eye and was missing two teeth. “Thank you for letting me go … _Miss Claire_.” Turning to face the red-faced ghoul Donny made the conscious decision to not help the girl up from the floor. Everyone in the room stood shocked at the sarcastic words and lack of gentlemanly action from Donny. Beetlejuice’s head fell backwards off his shoulders. Claire, who didn’t know Donny was usually the definition of nice, “humphed” in annoyance and stuck her nose in the air from her seat on the floor.

Lydia was the first to recover. “Well…” She went and helped Claire up. “…wh-why don’t we go down stairs and have a chat, ok Claire?”

“Like sure, why _not._ ” She snapped.

“Beej, I’ll see you in… an hour.”

“Sure thing, Lyds.” Beetlejuice eyed Donny wearily.

Just before the girls left the room Claire turned around & stuck her tongue out at Donny. “Bye bye, _Dee-Jay_.”

“Why you- you-” Donny hissed and went to grab Claire.

“FREEZE!” Donny’s body froze; encased in ice. “Hold on there a ‘sec, Bro.” Beetlejuice crossed his arms and put a finger to his lips in contemplation. “I think we need to talk, too.” Donny’s eyes widened, unused to his brother showing any interest in his afterlife. The ice chilled him and with Claire out of the room he felt his normal personality return to him. Shame washed over Donny and his face got so hot it melted the top portion of the ice.

“Wanna es’plain it ta me?”

“E-Explain what, brother?” Beetlejuice pinched his brother’s hooked nose. “Ow, ow, OW! Ok, ok…” Beetle let go. “I, I don’t know what came over me.”

“Well, I think I _know_ what came over ya. What I’d like ta know is _why_ it came over ya in **MY ROOM!** ” Beetlejuice seethed.

“Be-Beetlejuice, I was n-not… you d-don’t think I’d ac-actually-” Donny stuttered. “She was going to break your _mirror!_ ”

“Yeah, sure she was…” Beetle rolled his eyes eventually looking into his brother’s wide puppy-dog pout. “Ah, buggers…ya ain’t lyin’ are ya?” Donny gave him a defeated look, and at the face Beetle kicked the block of ice; it cracked and broke apart freeing Donny. “…I still gotta _clean_ my floor.”

“Thank you brother…” To Beetlejuice’s surprise Donny didn’t try to hug him. “I’ll, um, see you in a few days.” Donny 'poofed' out of the room leaving flowers, candy, and a befuddled brother in his wake. He completely forgot to tell his brother about the family dinner.

“Donny’s usin’ his Juice, Claire’s got fire power, and Lyds is friends with her ol’enemy…” He put his hands on his hips. “What in the Negaworld is the Neitherworld comin’ too?”


	4. One Hot Halloween

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this.

…

_October 29 th 2002_

…

“Ok Huns, this is the last day we can practice before you perform at The Juice’s dinner party.” Ginger spoke to the two girls wearing outfits similar to her own. “Now remember your steps!” She stood in between Lydia and Claire. “Ready: One, a two, & a three…” She watched as Lydia & Claire both stepped in time to the smooth jazz music coming from the old phonograph each tapped in time to beat and crossed each other at the correct queue. By the time they had finished Ginger was clapping from her spot on the sofa. “Wow, great job girls, ya both did excellent!”

Lydia blushed a bit at the compliment while Claire proceeded to gloat. “Of course like, I did great!”

All three girls chuckled and began to clean up the room. Watching Claire plop herself next to Ginger in order to chat Lydia strode across the room in order to turn off the ancient music player. She bent down to pick up the vinyl when she felt a wave of dizziness hit her.

“Lydia?” Both women got up from the couch at the sound of the vinyl smashing to the floor. Ginger caught the young Goth before she too would hit the ground. “Claire-hun, go get a sock from the closet over in the hallway!”

“Like a sock? Why-”

“Just _DO IT!_ ”

Claire scrambled down the hallway to the specific closet and opened one of the drawers without thinking. The stench was enough to make her hair stand on end. Running to the kitchen she grabbed a pair of tongs, and went back to fish out one of the stiff socks.

“Good Hun, just let it hover over her nose.”

“Oh like, ok.”

The sock did the trick. Lydia’s eyes opened wide at the smell of the offending foot-covering, both her hands shot to her nose.

“OH GROSS, isn’t that Beej’s favorite sweat sock?” Lydia said, trying her best to maneuver away from the stench.

Claire, without thinking threw the sock ( _tongs & all_) into a pile of trash in the corner. The sock moved on its own, worming its way back to the closet & mate. Sitting down next to Lydia, she put a hand to the goth’s forehead. “Oh my GOSH, you’re like, burning up Deetz!”

Ginger shooed the blonde’s hand away and felt Lydia’s forehead with her own. “She’s not burnin’ up, Hun, that’s just your hand’s Heat.” Ginger turned back to look at Lydia. “Honey, ya ok? Ya looked like ya were about to take your _final_ bow.”

Lydia looked up at Ginger’s worried humanoid face and sighed. “I’m fine, Ginger, I haven’t eaten anything today. You know, because BJ was on this gross food kick this morning...” It wasn’t a lie, well not completely, so hopefully she wouldn’t have another skeleton in her closet. She had eaten that day, but as for her almost faint, Lydia hid the fact that she hadn’t been sleeping well or been under a ton of pressure lately.

“Well like, then come on Deetz, were like, totally going to get some food in you!”

“Ya know Claire-hun, that’s a great idea; I’ll go into the kitchen and fix ya both a light snack.” Claire and Lydia watched Ginger tap out of the un-living room and began to take their tap shoes off.

“So Deetz are you sure you’re like, ok? We still like, have to perform tomorrow, remember? You have to like, bring you’re A game **.** ”

“I should be fine, Claire. Really, there’s no need to worry.”

“Oh well like, ok then.” She shrugged as they both stepped into her room. “By the way Lydia I _like_ , no wait, I **_love_** the costumes you designed.”

Lydia’s head whipped around to face Claire. “R-Really?”

“Yeah like, how did you know my _fav_ color was pink?”

“Well, you do wear it all the time…” Lydia laughed and a small smirk formed on Claire’s face.

“Un-huh. That red on your costume like, really does you justice.”

“Oh, um, cool. Thanks Claire.”

“Like, I’m sure a certain Beetle-brain is going to _love_ seeing you in it.”

“Ha, yeah I’m sure he will-” Lydia stopped just as she was about to pull her poncho over her head. Wide-eyed she stared at her new friend. “Be-Beej likes e-everything I wear, so yeah, it’s not like, you know, like he li-likes me like that or anything! I didn’t design our outfits to be so r-reveling; I’m not trying to h-hook him…”

“Wow Deetz like, slow it down. It’s like, no big deal that you like him.”

“But…”

“Look like, the circumstances are TOTALLY weird but like, who cares? You like, love him, right?”

“Um… I, uh, yeah, I guess I do…” Lydia blushed and sat down on Claire’s bed.

“So then you like, just have to show him.” Claire winked at the girl. She stood back suddenly and a tornado of fire swirled around her. When the heat & fire dissipated, she was back in the clothes she died in. “Like, that will _never_ get old.”

Both of them broke out in laughter.

…

Ginger entered the kitchen and began to search the fridge. Humming, she stopped when she heard a small gasp. Jacques had been absently stirring some batter ( _using his arm & hand as a spatula_) in the corner of the room prior to the spider-woman’s entrance. The French skeleton stopped his stirring to stare at Ginger’s seemingly ‘new’ appearance.

“ _Oh-la-la_ …” He said taken aback.

Ginger’s shoulders tensed at the sound. Blushing she managed to hold all the ingredients she grabbed in her one arm and turned around to face what would be an embarrassing situation. Setting the items on the counter she began to make a couple of sand- _witches_.

“Gingēr? Is zat you?”

“Oh, ha-ha, yes I suppose it is…” Ginger blushed; trying to hurry in her task.

“ _Mon Dieu_ , you look – Ah! I um…” Jacques reattached his arm, shaking the batter from his hand. “…you ‘ave quite ze beautiful frame, no? I ‘ave never notized it before…”

“Well, I uh, ya know…” She quickly piled all the sand-witches onto a plate. “I never get to show off this form ‘cause Beetlejuice is such a pervert! Ha-ha, haa…”

Finished with her task she suddenly felt planted to the spot. Jacques was standing right next to her, his tall frame leaning against the counter. Ginger stared at his collarbones, realizing the obvious new height differences, and wondered what he might have looked like had he muscle and skin. She blushed at the thought and the fact that she’d been openly ogling him in the kitchen.

“ _Oui_... that iz terrible.” He picked her hand up and kissed it. Using his clean skeletal-hand Jacques tucked a small pink strand of Gingers hair behind her visible ear, marveling at the texture of her new-found skin, and the heat that came from the bright flush that stretched across her small face. “Perhaps, I can zee you more often when he ez not around? Maybe tomorrow, _mon cheri?”_

“Ah-ha, um ha-ha, I, uh, I g-guess…” Finding it hard to speak, Ginger felt her two usually strong knees wobbled at his touch. Picking up her tray, she quickly & clumsily left the kitchen, a bright pink blush covering her cheeks.

Jacques watched her go with an amused toothy-grin. He had thought the woman attractive as a spider, but as a human?

“Ah, _la amour_.”

…

_October 30 th 2002_

…

“Hey, do NOT give me THAT look!” Beetle yelled. “It may work on _Mom_ , but it will NOT work on _me!_ ”

“B-But _Beetlejuice_ …” Donny put all his effort into his "puppy-eyes", hoping they would work wonders once more. “PLEASE! **Please** don’t bring that snobby, snooty, and rude young lady to our family reunion!” He stopped his foot in a child-like manner.

“Look Donny, as much as it _re-kills_ me to say it…” Beetle stuck his finger in his mouth, imitating the universal I’m-gonna-throw-up sign. “…I **agree** with ya.” A shiver ran through him. “EWW! YUCK! I can’t believe I just _said_ that.”

“Golly Beetlejuice, you mean that?” Donny hugged him.

“Unfortunately … yes.” Beetle peeled his brother off his body. “Now make like a rotten-banana, ‘an _split!”_ Beetlejuice brought his leg back for the kick, ready to send his brother into next _Sundae_ , when a familiar red-spider print poncho caught his eye. Quickly setting down his brother, Beetle made it look as if he was playing-nice the entire time. Donny smiled and took advantage of the situation to continue hugging his brother.

“Awe, Beej. It’s nice to see you getting along with your brother.”

“Right-right, were getting’ along good enough…” The he said under his breath: “Don’t _push it_ , Lyds…”

“Hello, Donny.”

“Why, hello Miss Lydia.” Donny beamed at her, his eyes going from his brother to her and back. “I’m here to pick all of you up since Doomie’s feeling under the weather.”

“Yeah, he’s got a case of _Flush-tration_.” A toilet flushed in the background. “He went through three oil changes last night.”

“Is he going to be ok?” Lydia began to walk to the garage, but was intercepted by both the Juice brothers.

“He’ll be _fine_ , Lyds. Last I checked on him he was nursing some engine fluid.”

“Yes, Miss Lydia. I personally checked up on Doomie; not a _thing_ to worry about!” Donny chirped in.

“I guess… if Donny says so.” She smiled teasingly at Beetlejuice.

“Geez, Babes, way ta show the love.”

Donny watched bemused as Beetlejuice walked over and put an arm around Lydia’s shoulders. ‘ _Their perfect for each other._ ’ Donny sighed and smiled. ‘ _Maybe this Halloween they’ll get their act together…_ ’ At the thought of Halloween Donny’s smile faltered. He remembered the argument he & his brother previously had about bringing a certain hot-headed blonde and blushed. His spectral body tingled at the thought of the fiery valley-girl. Donny cursed his traitorous mind; Claire had gotten under his skin. Not only did the hot-head make him morally act like a copy of his brother, but she physically turned Donny on in the process. Donny gripped the keys to his Beetle-mobile ( _a car better titled for his brother_ ) and tried to will his mind clean.

“Babes? Do we have’ta bring that Claire-atron?” Beetlejuice gave her his best toothy grin; the beetles in his teeth scattered for freedom.

“BJ, we talked about this: if Claire _doesn’t_ go then I’m _not_ going.” Then she whispered: “Besides I think it’s a good idea for her and Donny to get a second impression.”

“Un-huh, perfect idea Lyds, but I think they got all the _impressions_ they needed on my bedroom floor!” He angrily whispered back.

“I helped you clean, so stop being a perv about it.” She scolded him.

“BABES! Th-Think about it fer a second!” He pleaded and shot down to the ground to grab hold of her ankle. “This is **_Bruise_** _-ster_ were thinkin’ o’bringin’!”

“I know Beej, but this is her **_first_** Halloween as a ghost! You know she doesn’t have anyone besides us to spend it with.” Lydia pleaded with Beetlejuice and hoped he wouldn’t ruin it. She had been practicing hard on her dancing and wanted everything to go smoothly for the show her & Claire would put on for the reunion dinner.

Meanwhile, Donny felt his heart literally sink to his stomach as he watched the two interact. His brother’s girl-best-friend had a point and he felt ashamed that he’d been acting like a complete troll towards the fire-wielding ghoul. He wondered WHY he became out of character around her. Sighing in defeat, Donny went and sat in the car. All the thoughts made his head spin; Claire made his head spin.

LITERALLY!

Beetlejuice and Lydia shuffled into the backseat. He started the engine but froze when he realized the position he’d been put in. Panicked he realized that Miss Claire would be sitting her pretty-hot self right next to him in the passenger’s side.

“Br-Brother, would you mind sitting up here next to me?”

“Not in another millennium.” Beetle flatly responded, receiving a playful slap from Lydia.

“Miss Lydia, how about you?” He eyed her hopefully from the dashboard mirror.

“Oh, uh, I gu-”

“AB-SO-LUTE-LY **_NOT!_** ”

“BJ!”

“No way, Lyds.”

“ ** _BJ_** …”

“I’m not gettin’ stuck sittin’ next to the _Claire-cano!”_ Beetlejuice hissed.

“Beej, _please?_ ”

“That ain’t gonna work on me Lyds. I ain’t movin’…” He pointed at himself. “…and you ain’t movin’…” He pointed at her. “ _…SO THERE!_ ” He crossed his arm in a child-like manner and slouched in the seat.

Snorting out a laugh, Lydia shook her head and apologized to Donny. Un-known to the two Juice brothers, Lydia had happily sided with her best friend. She felt that Claire and Donny needed to get to know one another a little better. At the sound of a knock on the door and all three passengers turned to see Claire fling it open and proceed to stuff a large duffel bag at Donny. Getting in she quickly closed the door and began examining her nails. Slightly irked by the intrusion Donny tried his best to regain his polite personality around the rude ghoul.

“Miss Claire.” He gave her a stiff greeting. “Good evening.”

“Yeah like, whatever.”

Lydia watched nervously as Donny’s grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. ‘ _If they were any whiter I’d swear I was looking at **bone** …’_ Lydia thought giving him a concerned look.

“Ugh, like, are we going anytime soon?” Claire’s eyes shot to the driver. “Or am **_I_** like, going to be late thanks to our less-than-competent driver.”

“Do not worry, _Miss_ Claire, I promise you we will get to my mother  & father’s house within plenty of time.” Donny ground out as he started the car and pulled onto the one-lane high way.

Beetlejuice leaned towards Lydia and whispered to her. “This is going to be an interesting ride, if ya know what I mean, eh Babes?” All Lydia could do was roll her eyes.

“I hope not, Beej…”

...

Beetlejuice grabbed Lydia and she in turn grabbed the duffel bag that had her & Claire’s costumes in it. They were all about twenty minutes from the Juice household and had been driving for only thirty before that. As it turned out, it only took a half an hour to get Claire cooking hot ( _without the provocation of BJ_ ) around Donny. Beetlejuice held tightly onto Lydia as they watched a rather large mushroom-cloud explosion from the front gates of his parent’s house. Beetle whistled loud & long at the sight.

“That’s a 4.5 on the Richter scale…” In the background, a large scale appeared, Lydia watched as a mallet sent the little weight up to the number he predicted ringing the bell at the top. She giggled as he put her down.

“Poor Donny, didn’t he really love that car?”

“Ah, who cares, Babes? Little goody-two-shoes can find & fix up another ol’junker.” Lydia shook her head and watched as Claire, in a burst of flames, appeared before them.

“O.M.G. What a _DIP_! Lydia can you like, BELIEVE what that librarian-wanna-be said!” Claire huffed in annoyance.

“This is getting’ good, eh Lyds?” Beetlejuice was eating it up, thoroughly enjoying watching two of the most annoying ghosts he knew insult each other.

“BJ, this isn’t amusing.”

“Hey, Babes, speak for yourself.” Just as he said this Donny materialize right in front of the white picket fence of their parent’s house and began to finish the soap-box rant he’d started in the car.

“You-You _Miss_ _Brewster_ , must be the most rude, most discourteous, most IMPOLITE woman I have ever met!”

Claire had turned back around on Donny, but thankfully due to her little meltdown in the car, she didn’t have enough Heat to produce another material explosion. All she could manage was a glare that could possibly turn sand into glass. Lydia was about to intervene when she heard the familiar sound of Mrs. Juice clearing her throat.

“Showtime…” Lydia whispered.


	5. A Dinner to Remember

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this.

...

_October 30 th 2002_

…

“Welcome, boys! Lydia and… Oh my deary me, who might this young lady be?” The older woman stepped out of her house followed by her much larger husband, and walked over to the group of four.

Lydia sent up a little prayer to the Powers That Be for the interruption. “Ha…um, Mrs. Juice it’s so nice to see you again! Uh, this is Claire Brewster…” Lydia introduced. “…she’s one of my friends happens to be the new tenant at the Roadhouse.”

“Like hello, uh, Mrs. Juice.” Claire said nervously trying to calm her anger.

Bea grabbed the girl’s hand. “Oh my, look Nat! She keeps her hands so smooth and clean!”

“I see, Dear.” At the sight of Nat Juice, Claire’s first reaction was to back up… right into Donny.

“Omph! Like, watch where you’re going Nerd-o.” Clair casually flipped her hair, smacking him in the face. Donny’s expression darkened and his hands fisted at his sides.

“Um, w-why don’t we girls go into the house, come on Claire!” Lydia grabbed Claire and Bea, leading them into the house. The three men watched them go. Nat turned back to his sons and took note. ‘ _Juniors acting like his normal lazy self, but Donny…_ ’ “Well gee son, what’s the matter?” Nat gave his youngest a concerned look.

“He’s got the _hots_ for O’Brusier there.” Beetle jerked his thumb in the direction the girls went. Nat, quite literally having sparks fly out the bolts in his neck; lit up at the news his oldest supplied him. Donny on the other hand, had all his color visibly drained from his person.

“BEETLEJUICE! Sh-Shut up!” Donny stormed past his older brother forcefully opening the front door then slamming it shut on the two bewildered men.

“Oh my…” Nat eyed the door in shock. “Goodness Junior, I’ve never seen your brother act like that.”

“Yeah, an that’s sayin’ somethin’ Pops. Guess Donny finally found someone ta push the right buttons.” He smirked at the thought, then it hit him and his face fell. “Been tryin’ fer years ta get him ta change…”

“Oh, don’t worry Junior your brother’s good-natured consciousness will return.” Nat forcefully patted his son on the back. “So how has Lydia been?”

“Awe, Babes is alright.” He shrugged. “She’s been a little stressed lately thanks to Brew-miser an' school, but other than that – everything’s just _dandy_.” Unconsciously he sneered at the door. Ever since Claire died, Lydia never spent more than a few hours in his company. “But who am **I** ta complain, right Pops?”

Nat watched as his son saunter threw the door, not even bothering to open it, and gave a hefty sigh. “One of these days my kids will get it right…” Cracking his head, he prepared himself for what was going to be a  _very_ interesting evening.

…

“So Lydia how have you been, Deary?” The men hadn’t entered the house yet and she was just _dying_ to ask a certain question…

“Oh, I’m fine, Mrs. Juice.”

“Please Lydia, its Bea…” She gave a crooked smile. “…after all, you’re _practically_ family!”

Lydia gave the older woman an uneasy smile.

“Yeah, like Lydia, you and BJ are just like, _soooo_ close!” Claire gave her a half-lidded smirk making the Goth blush.

“Oh my!” Bea gave a short giggle. She stopped laughing when the sound of the front door slamming shut caught her attention. “Donny-Deary, what’s the matter?”

The two girls had both jumped & turned around when he entered. Lydia watched as Donny practically marched right into Claire. He halted, his eyes meeting Claire’s and a furious blush spread across his face.

“N-Nothing mother, I-I’ll be in the kitchen to help with dinner! Ex-Excuse me…” Without blinking the three women watched as Donny 'poofed' to his destination. Candies, flowers, and the smell of perfume left in his wake.

“Well I’ll be… Donny using magic in the house!” Bea said in surprise. “He _never_ uses his magic, let alone in the _house!_ ”

“Wow, Donny "juicing" outside of extreme situation…” Lydia turned to Claire, a smirk on her own face. “…I bet he really hasn’t been the same since he met you, right Claire?” Acting a bit like her best friend, Lydia wiggled her eyebrows in suggestion.

“Hmph, like whatever.” A blush spread across Claire’s tanned face as she stormed off to what she figured was the un-living room.

“My, my… what was that all about Lydia?” Bea looked curiously at the young Goth.

“Oh, I, well I don’t want to _jump_ to conclusions…” She jumped up to Bea having the urge to act out the pun and whispered the rest in the older woman’s ear. “…but I think Donny and Claire like each other.” She sighed, standing back to glance between the kitchen and the un-living room. “Of course, Donny’s to polite  & Claire’s too thick-headed to see it.”

Bea nodded, understanding the situation instantly. After all, her "thick-headed" oldest was going through the same thing with his "polite best friend". Subsequently, Beetlejuice decided in that moment to make his entrance into the house.

“Junior! Wipe your feet!” Bea scolded.

“ _Maaaaa!_ Come on, I’m not even touchin’ the ground!” Beetle whined, then promptly plopped himself to the floor, dirtying the mat. Out of habit though, he began to wipe his feet. ‘ _So much for that new junk I was treckin’._ ’ He thought.

“That’s better, now why don’t you and Lydia make yourselves _comfortable_ in the un-living room while I get dinner ready.”

“Sure thin’ Ma.”

“O-Ok, Mrs-um, I mean, uh, Bea.”

She watched with a knowing smile as the two hooked arms and walked into the un-living room. Her eyes shifted to the doorway however, when her husband walked in. It only took her a second to notice how tired he suddenly looked.

“What’s the matter, Dearest?” Nat said nothing and instead silently hugged his wife; thankful when she immediately reciprocated the gesture.

“I love you, Bee-Bee.”

“Awe, I love you too, Nat-a-tat.” She bent upwards and kissed him.

“Hmm, Babe I think…” He sighed. “I think our boys are in love.”

“Really?” Bea smiled up at him. “Dearest, what gives you that idea?”

Nat’s face scrunched up as he flared his nose in annoyance. “Just an observation, Babe.” Looking down at his wife, he shook his head. “Where’d Donny go?”

“Oh, he’s in the kitchen, why do you ask?”

“I think for the sake of our future grandchildren, I’ll do something I’ve never done before.” He gave his wife another peck on the lips, straightened, and walked into the kitchen leaving behind his flustered wife.

“Oh deary…”

…

“B-But Dad-”

“No buts, Donny, you are to spend some family time with your brother and his girl-uh, um, his… best friend? Ugh, just go. I want some alone time with your mother.”

Donny looked perplexed. “D-Don’t you get enough alone time with her already?” He whined.

“No, now Donny, I don’t know what brought on this change but I want you to stop acting like your brother and have some fun with the others.”

“S-Sorry, I- well ok.” Donny trudged his way into the living room as Nat walked back into the kitchen to help his wife with dinner. The younger Juice brother couldn’t wrap his mind around the situation. Wasn’t this supposed to be a family reunion? His father never helped his mother to cook. EVER! Walking into the un-living room Donny realized something was amiss.

“Where are Miss Lydia and…” He grudgingly ground out. “… _Miss Claire._ ”

“Lyds and Bruiser went to get changed or somethin’.” Donny watched his brother knock back a beetle-flavored soda and decided to sit down with him.

“Brother-”

“Gezz, Donny! Yer just gonna have ta figure it out on yer own.” Beetlejuice crushed the can and tossed it in his jacket pocket. “Save that guy fer later.”

“Beetlejuice please! I can’t seem to get a hold of myself when I’m around that, that-” Donny struggled with the right words. “...hot-head.”

“Man, _Don-Juan_ , you got it bad.”

Donny’s eyes widened. “Brother if you are insinuating that I _like_ her, than you are-”

“Utterly correct.” Beetlejuice popped open another can of soda for emphasis and began to chug it.

Donny sat next to his brother, mouth agape. “I certainly do **not**!”

Finishing his second can of soda, Beetlejuice let out a rather loud belch that shook the house. Wiping his mouth on his striped sleeve, he turned to look at Donny with the most bored expression he could muster.

“Bullsh-”

“TA-DA!” Cutting him off, Lydia and Claire both stood in the doorway of the un-living room wearing their costumes. Lydia dressed in red & black. Claire dressed in pink & black. They both tapped their way in front of the two surprised ghosts.

“Whoa, Babes? What’s with the get-ups?” He turned to Donny and elbowed his brother in the gut. “Not that I’m complanin’.”

“Brother…” Donny gave him a disapproving look as Beetle snorted a laugh.

“So we have like, a little dance number we’ve been like, practicing.”

“Hey BJ, could you _call_ your Mom  & Dad into the room?” Lydia winked at him.

“Sure thin’ Lyds.” Beetlejuice turned into a phone dialed his parent’s phone number, a few minutes later he transformed back into his humanoid form as Mr. & Mrs. Juice walked into the un-living room.

“You know Junior, you could have just came and got us.” Nat replied, aggravated.

“Where’s the fun in that, Pops?” Everyone in the room rolled their eyes.

“Anyway, if you two don’t mind taking a seat Claire and I will get to our little performance!” Lydia happily chimed out.

“Oh Deary, why Junior you didn’t tell us the girls would be putting on a production!”

“Piff, I didn’t even know they had this planned.” Beetle looked annoyed realizing he’d been left out. He scoffed his beetle-boot on the coffee table; irked with the situation.

Gradually the sound of jazz filtered throughout the room as the two girls took their placing in front of the Juice family. They danced exactly as they had rehearsed neither missing a step, tap, or jump, and at the end of the tap show they did a flourish of movement then froze their poses. When Mr. & Mrs. Juice began to clap they bowed to their audience of four.

“Oh deary! Our dinner! Come Nat, we left the stove on.” The two older Juice’s left after giving their thanks for the surprise performance. Donny and Beetle didn’t clap. Both were currently trying to figure the situation out and at the same time get their eyes un-glued from the girl they had fallen for.

Beetlejuice was the first to shake it off. “Smokes, Babes. I knew ya had talent fer the taps, but you could be a star!” Cash signs showed up in his eyes and Lydia gave him a half-lidded look.

“No way, Beej. Been there, done that.” Laughing at his deflated face, moving to stand next to her friend she tiredly turned to look at Donny. “Wow, I think he’s smitten.” She whispered, giggling as she watched the scene before them.

“Right, Babes. More like _smelted_ in, oh I'd say, about two milliseconds.” He chuckled darkly and tried not to act like a letch when he got a close-up view of Lydia’s rather low-cut outfit. The two best friends watched as Donny got up from the couch and tensely walked over to Claire.

“Gosh, Miss Claire, that was…” He looked at her with bright eyes. “…a beautiful display.” Donny was trying to be his usual nice, honest, goody-goody self. Surprisingly it was working, but as Beetlejuice precisely predicted, it only lasted for about two milliseconds.

“ _Puh-lease_ … like you _total **pervert.**_ ” Claire’s bright blue eyes narrowed at him. “A "beautiful display", like yeah right. I bet you were like, your perv-o Beetle-jerk-brother and like, salivating all over our dancing.” Claire turned her nose up at him.

“ _Pervert…_ ” Donny repeated the word in a whisper, sounding dark & dangerous, which was odd coming from such a cheerful soul.

Lydia & Beetlejuice watched in shock as Donny immediately grabbed Claire’s hand, pulling her into his arms. Amazed, their mouths hung open at the sight as Donny quickly dipped Claire. Out of the blue a quick tango-like beat seeped into the room, the lights dimmed, and a spotlight shown on the two dancers. Claire wouldn't back down to the unspoken challenge, forcing her sudden dance partner back into a standing position. Frozen to their spots Lydia & BJ could only stare as the two ghosts danced with a fiery passion before them.

“D-Do you think we should stop them?"

“Are ya kiddin’ Babes, that’d be like tryin’ ta stop a train wreck.” He made a disgusted face as he watched Claire wrap her leg around his brother’s thigh. At the sight he turned another shade of purple. “Bleh, I’m gonna be sick.”

“Ok, I think it’s time for dinner-” Bea’s words died off as she entered the un-living room. “…oh m-my deary…”

Donny had been glaring at Claire, his hands holding onto the arch of her back, poised in another dip, when he heard the shocked gasp of his mother. Without thinking, he promptly let go. Claire dropped to the ground with a loud “oomph” and with her landing the effects disappeared as well. Standing straight, Donny's face turned a bright red, realizing what had just occurred.

“M-Mother, um, I ah-” Sweat poured off his brow. “I’llgosetthetable!” He quickly stated then ran into the kitchen.

“Like, how rude.” Claire stood up from her position on the floor. “I mean like, he didn’t even say he was like, sorry.”

Bea just blinked, and then gave a questioning glace to her son and Lydia. “May I ask what’s going on in here?” She held up the rolling pin she’d been using at Beetlejuice; a mild threat.

“Uh, see Ma, those two were just practicin’ a little number I’d like ta call: **_Don Brewin’_**.” He started to laugh when Lydia elbowed his gut. “Ouch! Lyds!”

“I’m sorry Mrs. Juice, Donny and Claire are in the process of getting to know one another.” Lydia tried to explain.

“Yeah, an’ at this rate will be havin’ a good ol’fashioned shot-gun weddin’ if they keep it up.” Beetlejuice whispered in Lydia’s ear after cocking a shot-gun in his hand.

“Junior, what did I tell you about guns in the house?”

“They ain’t allowed, yeah, yeah…” The gun disappeared. “I get it Ma.”

“Now then, I came in here to ask one of you to set the table, but since Donny volunteered… I guess I’ll ask if you’re ready for dinner?”

Lydia, Claire, and Beetlejuice all nodded their heads in agreement, following Bea into the dining room. The table had been set and Nat was finishing placing the main course, an oozing Globbler, in the center of the table. Donny was fidgeting with the spoons for the cream of ear-corn and the scream-berry sauce. At the sight of Claire his face flushed and he tried to look everywhere but at her. Claire on the other hand slowly sauntered to her seat, glaring at him with her hands on her hips. Nat and Bea sat at the head of each side of the oval table, Lydia sat next to Beetlejuice, and Donny sat next to Claire.

“BJ, I don’t think this was a great idea.” Lydia whispered to her best friend once they were seated.

“Aw, Babes don’t worry…” Beetlejuice smirked back, enjoying the chaos his brother and roommate where creating. “…the night’s just getting started.”

That was what Lydia worried about. Sitting across from Claire and next to Bea she went through the motions as Nat gave thanks to the Powers That Be as Mrs. Juice served her some of the miss-matched mashed potatoes. Soon her plate was covered in an assortment of Neitherworldian food oozing onto the neon green table cloth. Staring at her plate Lydia felt an overwhelming bout of exhaustion hit her as she tried to keep up with the conversation.

“So Miss Claire, I hear that you’re un-living at the Roadhouse?” Bea asked as she cut into a slice of Globbler. “I hope my oldest is being nice.”

“Yeah like, we get along like, well enough Mrs. Bea.” Claire nodded poking her food. “I’ve actually really enjoyed these last few months since I died.” Stabbing a piece of couch-stuffing she turned her glaze to Donny. “…like, mostly.”

Beetlejuice paid no mind to what was going on at the table as he stuffed his face with his mother’s home cooking. He watched as his brother started stabbing his own food, a large vein appearing on his head, trying to ignore the girl he sat next to but failing completely. Nat sat uncomfortably chewing the same mouthful of food as the tension in the room elevated.

“Deary… I suppose that’s good to hear…” Bea said shifting awkwardly in her chair.

At this point Lydia could no longer hold back the anxious feeling that formed in her chest. The ball of stress popped inside her and she wavered on her chair. Trying to take back some control she focused on the plate of food, but the contents moved, and her stomach churned. Looking up she noticed Donny and Claire were arguing again. Bea and Nat were silent as they tried to get through their meal in peace, and Beetlejuice loudly slopped up his meal next to her.

A wave of nausea hit her.

“E-Excuse me…” Lydia stood up suddenly from the table. “I-I have to-” Everyone at the table paused at they watched Lydia’s eyes roll back in her head and fall backwards en route for the floor.


	6. The Count Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this. 
> 
> "Oui, s'il te plaît!" Is ruffly translated to: "Yes, please." 
> 
> "Sacrē Bleu! Je ne savais pas que tu parlais Français!" Is ruffly translated to: "(A French curse)! I didn't know you spoke French!"
> 
> "Ja, tue ich." Is ruffly translated to: "Yes, I know."

...

_October 31 th 2002_

…

"Lydia!" Worry struck Claire as she watched the mortal's descent. Without thinking she dived under the table catching the Goth before the girl could hit her head.

“Nice catch, Brewster.” Beetlejuice dropped his utensils and ran his sleeve over his mouth as he got up and knelt down next to Lydia.

“Like, no problem.” Claire was taken back by the seriousness in Beetlejuice’s voice and the fact that he said her actual name. Quickly, she handed the delirious Lydia over to him.

“Lyds? _Lydia?_ Babes are you alright?” Beetle gently stroked the side of her face.

“No, I don’t- I don’t feel to good Beej…” She weekly replied, her head cradled in the crook of his clean arm.

“HO-HOLD ON, Babes!” He picked her up bridal style. “Lydia, say my name and will be at a Breather-hospital in no time.”

“Beetlejuice… Be-Beetlejuice…” Lydia’s eyes began to close. “…Beetle …juice.” They disappeared in an eerie cloud of smoke.

Claire sat stunned on the floor where Lydia had collapsed and turned to look at the mortified Donny that stood next to a dazed Bea. Nat stumbled past his youngest son to go and comfort his wife who began to nervously clean the table. Coming out of his stupor Donny walked over to Claire and offered her his hand.

“Like, do you think she’ll be ok?” Claire held onto Donny’s hand like and un-life line, standing with his help.

She tried not to freak out. To her Lydia had always looked a little dead. Then she herself had died; seen what real dead-people looked like. For the after-life of her, Claire couldn’t picture Lydia truly dead. It scared her. She had gotten to know the Goth – really know her – enough to _care_.

“She’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Replied Donny, his voice as a bit hollow. A mix of emotions shot through him. His thoughts were not all directed to the confusing situation his brother must be in. Instead, all he could think about was how warm Claire’s hand felt. It made him feel clammy, nervous, and twitchy. He immediately let her go, feeling as if she burned him, even though he knew she hadn’t.

“Now what do we do?” Claire turned an addressed Mrs. Juice.

“Well d-dear, you can stay here if you’d like.” Bea suggested, upset and griping her husband tightly.

“Now Bea, perhaps that’s not the best option, I’m sure Miss Claire had plans to go home at the end of the evening.” Nat turned to look at Donny. “You don’t mind walking her home, right Sonny?”

Donny flinched, felling several overwhelming emotions at once. He compulsively wanted to please his father, be a gentleman by walking Claire home… yet he also wished to scream and run in the other direction never to see the hotheaded woman again. Worst of all, he sought to act like his brother, zip her back to her fireproof bedroom at the Roadhouse and, as much as the thought shamed him, screw until she turned into molten lava.

“If Miss Claire wishes to leave, I’ll escort her home.” Replied Donny.

All eyes then turned to Claire.

Feeling a little uneasy and irked by the situation, Claire weighed her options. She really didn’t want to stay any longer at the Juice household. Not that she didn’t feel welcomed or she didn’t want to impose, but it was more like she’d re-die of boredom. On the other hand, she would end up walking ( _because she blew-up Donny’s car_ ) back to the Roadhouse with a man who managed to get under her skin more than Lydia’s boy-best-whatever-friend.

“Hmm like, thanks for the dinner Mr. & Mrs. Juice-”

“Bea & Nat, Deary.” Mrs. Juice corrected.

“Ok I like, guess I’ll go.” She started to walk to the door, picking up her & Lydia’s duffle bag in the process.

“Sonny…” Nat warned.

“W-Wait up, Miss Claire!” Donny ran up and opened the door. He watched as she flipped her hair once more at him and strolled out. “I’ll see you soon, night Mom, night…” He gave a nod & scowled. “…Dad.”

The door shut and Nat let out a defeated sigh. “I never thought I’d say it, but Junior was right.”

“Right about what, Dearest?”

“Donny’s got the hots for that Fire-ball.” He gave a brisk laugh, Bea joining in as they cleaned up. “I sure hope that Lydia will be alright.” Nat hugged his wife, reassured when she squeezed back.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, Dearest.” Bea said, giving him a kiss. Eventually they watched the Halloween count down on television and retired for the night.

…

_Meanwhile…_

…

“So Jacques, what do ya have planned for tonight?” Ginger, in her spider form, tap-danced her way into the un-living room carrying a bowl of popped ear-corn.

“Oh, nothzing special.” He said, his boney face curving to give her a cheery smile. “Perhaps, vee could votch ze count down, no?”

“Oui, s'il te plaît!” Ginger replied, finding an opportunity to use what little bit of French she knew.

“Sacrē Bleu!! Je ne savais pas que tu parlais Français!”

“Um, I-ah…” She blinked in confusion. “What did you say?”

“Pardon, I am zo zorry…” Jacques scratched the back of his skull self-consciously. “I ’ad juzt azumed! I zaid: I did not know you zpoke Français, mon cheri.”

“Ah, well, I just know a little here and there.” Ginger said, embarrassed at her lack of linguistics. “I’m better at German, to be honest.”

“Oh, oui. You originated from Gērmany, no?” He picked up a bottle of Blotch, pouring them both a glass of the mossy-green soft drink.

“Ja, tue ich.” Ginger winked at him.

Jacques’s shoulder blades lifted as he lowered his head, if there were blood still flowing in his body all of it would have rushed to his face. Blinking, the thought gave him an idea. A silence settled over the two ghosts as the TV turned itself on.

“Hello there, manic TV views! It’s me your host, Mr. Commercial, for this most dreadful evening!” The springy salesman popped up on the screen wearing a black & orange plaid suit, with a green boo-tie. “It’s been another wonderful year here in the Neitherworld, and now before we drop the ball yet again-” A bag of bowling balls fell on him. “…ouch.” Jumping up out of the pile sporting several busies he continued unfazed.

“This year’s Halloween was brought to you by Blotch, carbon-ated soft drink. Mmm…” He took a sip and his lips melted off. “You can taste the acid in every sip! Also available in Swamp-Thing, Corroded Pipe, and Dirt Flavors!” Mr. Commercial immediately passed out after the last lines allowing the camera to zoom in on a large pumpkin shaped ball. The crowd of monsters dressed in there scariest, shouting and howling as the ball slowly descended.

“Wow, there droppin’ the ball slow this year…” Ginger tried to break the tension that settled over the two.

“Gingēr, I know tiz ez zudden, but I ‘ave a prezent for you…” Getting off the couch he quickly ran to his room.

Confused, Ginger sat on the couch and finally made the decided to use this as a chance to change into her humanoid form. Hopping off the couch she quickly spun a thick web around herself. After concentrating for a few minutes her arm broke through the thick shell. Standing up, she shook off the excess webbing and began fixing her hair. She just started to straighten her corset when she heard a soft gasp.

“Ja-Jacques?” Looking up at the doorway her own breath caught in her throat. Ginger examined his rotting muscled grey skin with an apprising eye as the man stood in the hallway staring at her. He wore the exact same clothes that Jacques had on; the red beret covering his bald head. His thin black mustache curled and un-curled making her heart quiver.

“Oui, mon amour.” Leisurely, the French body-builder strolled passed the couch to tower over her small form. “You look lovely Gingēr.” With the added lips, he managed not to butcher his English, giving her all the meaning of the words with the subtly of his accent.

‘ _Thank goodness I’m dead!’_ Thought Ginger, still marveling over the new sinew, muscle, and taunt skin that covered the lean Frenchman. _‘I can’t breathe!_ ’

Tenderly, he lifted Gingers blushing face to look up, letting his fingertips linger underneath her chin. “How old are you, mon chou?” Jacques asked out of the blue.

Blinking several times, Ginger took a step back, breaking the hold Jac had on her. “Oh, um…” Her mind was fuzzy as she tried to think. “I’m tw-twenty-eight.” She nervously laughed. “It’s kind of a funny story, really, was born in the year 1900 so the dates are even an-”

Jacques put a finger to her lips. “Oui, I just wanted to know.”

“Well, how old are you?” Ginger’s face turned neon pink as she spoke with his finger over her lips.

“Hmm. I bēlieve zat I am thirty-three.” He gave her a charming yellow smile. “I died in ze Zeven Year War way back in 1759.” He took his finger from her lips and picked up her hand, gently guiding her to sit on the couch. “I was blown to bitz by cannon fire, leaving nothzing but bones for my wake.”

“Oh, Honey that’s terrible.” Her black pupils enlarged as small tears pulled together, dripping over her lashes.

“Shh… do not cry, mon amour.” Jac’s yellow eyes stared at her, centered with the help of his new eyelids. “I am happy ‘ere. I ‘ave you.” He leaned in to kiss her.

“Jacques wait- I don’t think we should do this!” Ginger panicked.

“Gingēr.” He took her hand and place it over where his heart would be. “I ‘ave no organs, and this es just a zuit I conjured to imprez you.” With his other hand he caressed her cheek inching her face towards his. “I no longer ‘ave a ‘eart, but if I did if would belong to you.”

Tears spilled down the spider-woman’s cheeks as she closed her eyes, the sound of the pumpkin-ball splattering sending off fireworks in the background. Jacques joined their lips together in a sweet kiss and Ginger let her body relax. After a minute, however, she felt him deepen the kiss and soon found herself pushed up against the back of the sofa. There was a knock on the door but both of them never bothered to even look up.

...

_November 1 st 2002_

…

“I like, can’t believe I like, have to walk!” Claire had been complaining for the past twenty minutes and they were only two miles away from his parent’s house. At this rate, it would take till next morning to get back to The Roadhouse. “Were like, totally missing the fireworks…”

“Humph, considering that it’s your fault that were walking I don’t see what the problem is.” Donny did his best to keep his distance from the woman in front of him. She was back in her original outfit consisting of her pink button down & jean mini-skirt. As her hips swayed back & forth he was reminded of how "mini" it was; giving him thoughts of seeing a different kind of fireworks.

“You could like, carry me.”

"I don't need any more _dead weight_ , I'm already carrying your duffel bag..." Donny whispered to himself as his perfectly white teeth ground together.

"Ugh like, whut a _gentleman_." She said snottily.

"I could show you _gentle_..." He pictured holding Claire by her small waist, her own arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his... ‘ _ **That**_   _mental image_   _did not help my **growing** situation!_ ’ He thought, blushing, and tried to keep his de-composure. Like lightning, another thought struck him, a way to kill two birds with one stone.

“You know what, Miss Claire? I think I will carry you.” He gave her no time to let his words register. Grabbing her waist in one swift motion he pulled Claire into his embrace, flush to his person. Concentrating on his Juice, Donny reappeared within an instant on the front porch steps of BJ’s Roadhouse.

As he gently set her down Claire seemed frozen in place, dispite having heat-powers, and kept a vice-like hold of his striped maroon & gold collar. She could feel Donny's cool hands through the material of her shirt while he steadied her till she could stand on her own. Blinking big blue eyes wide with wonder made Claire looked at him in a new light.

Meanwhile Donny had just realized that Claire may have never traveled via ghost magic before. Blushing he gave her a gentle shake and two lazy blinks later Claire’s death grip on his sweater loosened.

"W-Wow." She began to back up towards the large doors of the Roadhouse.

“H-Hold on a second, Miss Claire!” Donny didn't want to let her go. “Um, I hope the rest of your evening is pleasant.” He said and just then remembered to set the duffel bag down.

“Hey, uh Dee-Jay?”

"Yes, Miss Claire?" Donny turned back to her and looked up, oddly enough, not minding the nickname.

“Um… thanks for like, taking me home.” She said it sincerely.

“Well, gosh, it was no problem…” He blushed and tried one more time to be pleasant with her. “I’ll um, come over in a few days to check up on you, that is… if you want, so uh… Ok?” Donny nervously pushed his two index fingers together and looked down at his brown loafers.

The sound of a gong being struck somewhere in the background caused them both to look up at each other. Then the sound and bright displays of fireworks lit up the sky behind them. Looking at Claire, Donny noticed the colors played a teasing & beautiful game on her face. Swallowing his sudden bout of nerves he readied his good bye.

“Happy Halloween, Miss Claire.” Placing his hands behind his back, he leaned into her doorway and placed a small kiss on her warm cheek. “Thank you for coming with us this evening…”

“Ye-Yeah like… sure. Like, Happy Halloween.” Claire flushed neon pink. Turning to face the door she quickly knocked.

“Who’s there?”

“Like, Boo.”

“Boo-who?”

“Like, stop you’re crying and like, let me in!” The door and Donny both groaned at the bad joke, but the door opened none the less. Donny stood silently as Claire backed her way slowly into the house. “Like, maybe you’re not so bad, Donnyjuice.” She said giving him a wink then swiftly closing the door.

Donny stood wide-eyed as the doorknob began to blow bubbles at him. Slowly turning around he walked to the edge of his brothers driveway started the long trek home. His mind seemed wander everywhere as the fireworks lit his way. A strange feeling threatened to pull him in two.

“I can’t believe I kissed her…” Donny said to no one. “Oh, gleaming gofers! We tangoed in Mother’s un-living room!” Pressing both hands to his heating face Donny tried not to lose it right there in the middle of the road. On one hand he found Claire an enigma to his person, a frustrating headache that could torch him. Yet, she also made him want for things he’d never experienced before. All primal urges aside, he felt part of himself wanting to get to know her, ask her where she got her figurative fire from.

Perhaps, like his brother, he could fall in love.

“Powers That Be… what am I going to do?”

…

After closing the door Claire wished she hadn’t turned around. There in the middle of the un-living room, were a skin-covered Jacques and a humanoid-Ginger, _making out_! The two didn’t even notice her presence. Shuttering, Claire dashed to her room while trying not to hurl and once inside she locked the door.

“Ewe! That was like, _soooooo **gross!**_ ”

Picking up her fireproof pillow, she hugged it to her face willing the image of Jacques & Ginger out of her mind. It was in that moment, as she tried to think of ANY thing else, that her mind revolved back to Donny. Hugging the pillow closer she hid her face and remembered the soft look Donny had given her. Sighing, she pictured the fireworks that had haloed him in the background and let out a burst of steam.

Sure, she’d dated while alive, but none of them treated her like Donny. ‘ _He stands up to me, yet he still tries to be a gentleman towards me after everything._ ’ Blushing she remembered the sweet platonic kiss he’d given her. ‘ _I wonder what it’d be like if he turned up the heat…_ ’ She pictured him holding onto her hips, dipping her low like he did earlier. His face shadowed as he brought his lips down upon hers. ‘ _Like, I could totally fall for him…_ ’ With that thought in mind something odd happened.

Claire felt her heart beat, once then twice.

“I like, feel… alive.”

Her blush became so hot she melted her un-melt-able pillow.


	7. Familiar Faces

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don't make any money off of this.
> 
> *If you haven’t read: The First Year (even though it’s not finished) or Love Juice you might not get some of the references in this chapter.

…

_November 3 th 2002_

…

“Let’s see here…” Cupid scanned his pristine white list with quick & efficient ease. “Juan, Juber, Juce, Judas, Juernois, Juggins, Jugtethape, Juice-” He paused. “Ah my, my, has it been ten years already?” He laughed sinisterly. “Well, I’ll have to set that a side as a special project for later… now where was I? Ah, right… Juillerat, Jukerman, Jukes, Jukich, Juliano, Julick, Junius, Juno…” He did a double take.

“No, it can’t be the same Juno…” Conjuring a heart-shaped magnifying glass he squinted to see the fine print under the name. “…of Rome.” Letting out a large sigh Cupid relaxed in his position. “ _St. Valentine_ , I’ve been trying to get that woman for decades…” His light-pink skin turned hot.

“My, my, this will be an interesting day.”

…

“So… Lydia’s ok?” Donny gave a quick smile through the mirror. “That’s _great_ , right?”

“Yep, Lyd’s will be fine in no time! She was just stressed out.” He shrugged, not letting it show just how much he’d been worried. “In the next few days she’ll be relaxin’ like yours truly!” Beetle hooked his thumb under his suit lapels and puffed out his chest.

“Goodness Brother, that’s just swell.” Donny gave him a small smile. “So, um, I guess Miss Lydia won’t be coming to the Neitherworld any time soon?”

“Nope, girl’s gonna _stay put_ and RELAX!” Beetle gave him a crooked grin that almost shattered the mirror. “Babes won’t know what stress is once I’m through with her!”

Donny’s features softened. “Good for you, Brother, it’s nice to see you taking on such a giving sprit.”

“Hey, whoa-now! I never said I was doin’ any of this fer _free!_ ” He cackled. “I plan on gettin’ somethin’ outta this deal.” Beetle greedily rubbed his hands together. “Anyways, make sure ta tell the ‘rents. I don’t need Ma callin’ me up again! Ya got that?”

“A-Ok, brother.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.” Beetlejuice watched as fog enveloped his brother’s image; disconnecting their conversation. He let out a long sigh. “Man, do I lie like a rug…” Instantly, Beetle transformed into a black & white striped shag-rug. Reforming into his humanoid appearance Beetlejuice slapped a hand to his face and let out one long tired groan as he stood up only to fall comically onto the sofa.

Beetlejuice was beat.

Lydia was ok for the moment, but he knew once she got around to it she’d be right back to her busy, busy life. Putting both hands to his temple he tried to will the image of her paler-than-pale face out of his mind. Fishing for a memory, he remembered the feelings that had sped through his conscious the moment Lydia passed out in his arms.

Worry.

Anxiousness.

Excitement.

_Happiness._

After running the list off in his head he felt physically sick, he knew that he shouldn’t have been so overjoyed at the thought, but aside from her own parents there wasn’t anything in the Realworld to offer his breather. Sure, she was alive, living her life but the friends she’d made in high school had moved away, the Maitlands… who know when or **IF** they would be back, and he suspected that in a couple good years she’d only have those in the Neitherworld for company.

Of course, there was their little contract to worry about, the threat of them both working as desk clerks for the rest of eternity; filing away suicides. Didn’t sound so bad as long as she’d be there with him, and as much as it ( _heh_ ) killed him to admit, he really didn’t want to visit the Realworld all that often. The only reason he went anymore was to see Lydia. If he was being truly honest, wherever the little goth went is where he wanted to be, living or dead.

However, if she were _dead_ …

“Ugh, what the HECK am I thinkin’!!!” He shouted to himself.

Beetlejuice grabbed tuffs of his hair and pulled. ‘ _What the **FUCK**?_ ’ He thought desperate for an answer. ‘ _Am I afraid she’ll die an ‘ol maid? Shit, they got potions, magic, reincarnation, and at worst plastic surgery for that… an’ I’d probably dig her regardless._ ’ He ripped some of his hair out. ‘ _Powers that be, what’s wrong with me…_ ’ Tears started to pull at his eyes as Beetlejuice slid to the floor.

This is the way Cupid found him.

“ _Candied Hearts_ , to think only ten years and you’re a sobbing mess without Lydia to brighten the room.”

The Ghost currently without the Most paused in his debacle of a display. Rubbing the salty tears from his eyes he gave a look that would’ve surely killed a mortal had the offending receiver been dead or perhaps, in this case, a demi-god. “Oh, no. Not you again.” Beetle sneered when he finally got a clear-enough look at the cherub. “If it isn’t Diaper-man here ta teach lessons of love & understanding!” Standing up he brushed off invisible dirt and took one of his cockier stances.

“I’m surprised I have to remind you: I’m _Cupid._  Mr. **Stupidjuice**.”

“Oh _SNAP_!” Beetlejuice’s head snapped off, flying up in the air two feet, before being caught  & repositioned on his shoulders. “Never heard that one before, **_Eros_**.” Beetle smirked as he watched the confused expression appear on the white winged man’s face.

Lifting a pink-curled eyebrow out from under his dark heart-shaped sunglasses he flew closer to the offensive poltergeist. “I’m not _**THEE**_ Cupid, you idiot.” Cupid nearly bit the stogie in his mouth off. Up till that point he’d been casually smoking, but it seemed he would need the ammonia-smelling smoke to calm his growing aggravation. “I’m a like a... replica, just so you know. You see upon my untimely demise I became one of the Cherubim that bring love  & passion to the world-”

“Yeah, so what’s your _angle_?” Beetle cut him off, but instead of the pun turning him into a _degree_ he ended up wearing a white robe, pointy wings, golden harp, and a halo. “What the _HELL?_ ” His outfit changed a second time, but now he wore a red robe, horns, a pointed tail, and pitch fork. “Fer the love of beetles…”

“Goodness, having trouble _finding yourself?”_ With the help of Cupid’s pun Beetlejuice transformed back into his original outfit. “Ah, since you’ve succeeded in making a proper fool of yourself, and for providing a fair amount of entertainment, I’ve got a little present for you.”

“It isn’t any arrows I hope…” He reflexively covered his rear-end.

“Eh...” ‘ _Not yet._ ’ Cupid thought as he reached into a pocket in his diaper and pulled out two small cylindrical tubes. “Here catch!”

“What are these?” Beetle asked as he examined the black glossy tubes in the shaped like a pair of lips, one had a red upper lip and the other a pink.

“Lipsticks, by CoverGhoul. The pink one is called Capsaicin, and the red one is a part of their new Coleoptera Collection, called Cochineal **.”**

“Why in the Negaworld are ya givin’ _me_ lipstick?”

“There not for YOU. * _sigh_ * Recall ten years back the first time we’d met? You, Beetlejuice, managed to make a mockery of a certain lovely holiday?”

“Yuck, Valentine’s Day?” He said with disgust. “ _Wait a minute!_ ” Time stopped for literally one minute. “Uh, _whoops_ … anyway, this ain’t V-Day, it’s NOVEMBER!”

“So what? You think that just because it’s not February 14th that I get a _day off_?” Cupid busted out laughing. “What do I look like? Santa Clause? Ha!”

“Yer right, ya look more like an **_elf_** ta me.” Beetlejuice shoved his hands ( _along with the two lipsticks_ ) in his pockets.

“Ha. Ha.” The cherub’s posture changed at the degrading comment, but Cupid wouldn’t give in to his the rage that managed to form in his gut. Dealing with this ghost always gave him such a terrible bout of indigestion and he wasn’t in the mood to be messed with. A mountain of work still had to be done and he had a _deadline_ to meet later.

Advancing upon his “victim”, Cupid gripped his purple bow and pulled back a black & white striped arrow. He gave the poltergeist no chance to block as he shot him point range in the heart. A disturbing smile broke across his face as his heart-shaped teeth bit into the stogie; the taste of blue lotus relaxing his nerves.

Beetlejuice yelped in pain as his body was once again transformed into his alter ego: Lovejuice. His pink skin bleeding into his red tipped fingers, white heart-shaped teeth, curly blonde hair, and striped diaper once again present on his person.

“Powers That Be, not this again!” Beetlejuice screamed in agony. “What did I do ta earn this? Are ya that sensitive about bein’ called an _elf?_ ”

Cupid rolled his eyes behind his dark shades. “I’m giving you two options, **Lovejuice**.” Two arrows ‘poofed’ into the quiver in his hand.

“I don’t like where this is goin’.”

“I imagine you won’t.” The cherubim agreed. "Like before-"

“Yadda, yadda... who do ya want me ta shoot?” A dreadful bubble of nausea ‘popped’ in Beetle's gut. “An’ what are ya _really_ here for?”

“ ** _I swear if you interrupt me one more time..._** " Cupid quietly threatened under his breath. "Like I said: do you remember that day ten years ago?”

“Piff... yeah, kinda hard ta ferget. Ya turned me human!” He screamed.” “An’ a teenager ta _boot!_ ” A large brown work boot appeared behind him, kicking square in his diapered tush. “YAOOW!” He yelped. “What is going on with my Literal Translation-o-ictus?”

“It couldn’t possibly have to do with you being _distressed_ about Lydia?” Cupid chipped in.

“No.”

“Are you sure?” Cupid said with a knowing tone.

“Look if this is some sort of _game..._ " He paused but nothing happened _. "...weird._ Uh, where was I? Ah, some kinda game like the one ya played on my back then? Sugar-Honey-Ice-Tea, what do a want ta hear from me?” Beetlejuice taunted, pleased with himself.

“Do you love Lydia?”

Beetle expression fell as he let the question roll around in his head. Several of his alter egos argued back and forth inside his mind, his will power or Will, surprisingly being the loudest. “Yes, I love Lydia.” The words were said in confidence.

“More than _pla-ton-ic-ally?”_ Cupid let a giddy smile split his face as he sing-songed his question.

A red blush covered Beetlejuice’s face. “…Yes.”

“Hmm, that’s nice to hear.” Stretching into the air Cupid shrugged off his statement and began fiddling with the quiver that held the two arrows.

“Whut? …that’s all ya got ta say? An’ how come ya had ta stick me in this get-up. If ya think I’m lyin’ – _fer once I’m **not!**_ I swear on my **_DEATH_**.”

“Look, _Lovejuice_ , I’m not doing this with any interest in you. You see, when you foolishly scribbled on the **L I S T** it sent a ripple of motion throughout the universe. Entire futures have been changed thanks to your silly attempt at a prank. Did you actually think you’d get away with it?” Cupid didn’t give him a chance to respond. “No, and you’re going to fix this mistake once more or-”

“Or what? You gonna threaten to make Lyds fall in love with someone else? Well, ya got another thin’ comin’ if ya think I’m just gonna stand here an’ let that happen.”

“Oooh, _focused_ now, aren’t we?” Cupid said sarcastically, pissed off for being interrupted once again. “Unlike you, I don’t like using the same trick twice. I’ve been thinking that as an alternative YOU would like to do this out of the kindness in your _mature_ heart.”

“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me-”

“It took you over **_SIX HUNDRED_** years to act like an adult. Please, for _once in your afterlife_ , just take responsibility for your actions, help those dear to you, and try not to question why it feels _right_ when you DO!” Cupid screamed and frustration.

“I guess am stuck then, huh?” Beetlejuice crossed his arms in defiance. “Ya never explained what ya wanted me ta do with those lipsticks or ...the arrows.”

“Oh it’s simple really; you’ll give the lipsticks to Lydia and Claire. I’m sure you know which color matches the correct female. A gift, from myself." He paused, circling Beetlejuice in a predatory way. "After they’ve applied the lipstick it will be your job to shoot the arrows.”

“I ain’t gonna shoot no arrow at Lyds, ya hear me.” Beetlejuice ran his hands up his arms like he was going to roll up his sleeves and then forgot he was mostly naked. Put off by the lack of an intimidating gesture, he decided to just glare at Cupid.

“Oh no, you won’t be shooting the arrows at the girls! No, no, no... Lovejuice. Here's the part where that new level of maturity you've acquired comes into play.” Cupid tossed the quiver with the two special arrows at Beetlejuice and watched as the poltergeist fumbled his catch. “How about a little history lesson before we get things started? See that Gold Tipped arrow, after striking the heart of your target, the person in question will feel uncontrollable desire for their true love.” He took a deep breath. “However, shoot the Lead Tipped arrow… and your target will run away forever in **_disgust._ ”**

“Alright... let me get this straight.” Beetlejuice said with a seriousness in his voice that made the hair on Cupid’s arms rise in fright. “You either want me to shoot one of these arrows at my brother, which I have no problem with, and one at myself?”

“Yes.”

“An' depending on which arrow I shoot it will decide if Claire & Donny fall in love or run away from each other forever.” Beetle gulped down a large ball of saliva that had formed in his mouth. “Or me & Lyds will fa-fall in l-lo-love.” He sputtered.

“No, Beetlejuice. You can't have both: one couple will fall in love and the other will fall apart.” Cupid's voice held a steely resolve.

“Why are you making me do this?”

“Lovejuice, you created this problem yourself and so you alone shall fix it. The price, though unknown at the time, is steep: happiness for yourself or for Donny. The decision is on your soul.”

“An' if I refuse?”

“Then you’ll stay as a Cupid for the rest of your afterlife. However, thanks to the contract that you'd made with Lydia – * _The Best Friends Deal_ – will be broken. Lydia’s soul will be ripped from her body & classified as a suicide; she will un-live the rest of her afterlife as a Civil Servant without your company to guide her.”

Beetlejuice’s eyes widened, his grip on the quiver quivered till finally he dropped the arrows. His mind seemed to shut down for a moment; he didn’t notice the bow, black & white striped pen, and a piece of paper ‘poof’ in front of him. Looking down at the small square piece of yellowing paper he recognized his hand writing:

 ...

Donny Juice

(♥)

~~*Non-Applicable*~~

Claire Brewster

...

Bending down he stared at the offending objects. Reaching forward he picked up the pen, 'clicking' the end, so he could write with it. Carefully picking up the paper he put a simple check through the heart-shaped box.

(♥√)

“That won’t solve your problem Lovejuice. In order to correct the mistake you  **MUST** shoot the arrows.” Cupid hovered over Beetlejuice but quickly backtracked when the poltergeist picked up the bow and went to swipe at him.

“Fine, ya got me.” He said with an ominous air. “I’ll _finish the job_ , but hear me out **_Cupid_** : if _anythin’_ happens to Lydia, there won’t be a _CONCEPT_ of love when I get through with you.”

Fear creeped up Cupid’s limbs at the threat of Beetlejuice not only erasing him from existence, or destroying Valentine's Day, but obliterating the very idea of love itself. Quite a concern. Even though Beetlejuice was mostly known as a prankster ( _he could be quite silly_ ) it was true that he was the most powerful ghost in all the Neitherworld. Cupid wouldn’t put it passed him to go through with the threat.

“The only thing that would happen to Lydia is what **_you_** choose, Lovejuice.”

“Right.” Beetlejuice picked up all of his items; flinging the bow on his arm, attaching the quiver to his leg, and sticking the pen & the paper inside the diaper’s pocket next to the two lipsticks. “It’s Showtime.” His voice was flat; lacking the usual animation as the determined poltergeist disappeared. Worrying, he didn’t leave behind his signature tin can, dead bat, an eyeball.

“Finally…” Cupid let go an anxious sigh of relief as he opened a compartment in his chest. Carefully he took out his heart; on it beat two small hands from a clock. “Ah, looks like I’m _Golden_! I have just enough time to make her hearing!” ‘Poofing’ to his desired destination Cupid wished he hadn’t banked a small portion of his magic on Beetlejuice’s repudiation.


	8. Disguised Truths

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don’t make any money off of this.

…

_November 3 th 2002_

…

After hanging up the mirror “phone” with his brother Donny began to pace back & forth in the hallway of his small home located near Imalone Gulch. “Well golly, Miss Lydia & Beetlejuice won’t be in the Neitherworld for quite a while…” Donny casually bit one of his nails as his thoughts centered on a certain fiery blonde-haired woman. “Perhaps, I mean, it _would_ be impolite not to tell her about the situation, and Miss Lydia did have a point about her being new...”

Donny got up from his plastic-covered sofa and stepped into his new purple rent-a-beetle. The drive over to The Roadhouse conjured a nervous atmosphere in the car, for various reasons he couldn’t explain, the strangest feeling that something either very good or very bad was going to happen. Pushing past the funk he’d found himself in, Donny got out of his car and walked up to the front door.

‘ _This is just like the first time I met her. Only this time, I hope she doesn’t turn me to ASH!_ ’ Donny gulped & pulled on the doorbell.

_DING-DONG-YAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!_

The door swung open, and the déjà-vu of it all simmered to the top of Donny’s mind, only this time instead of Claire burning him to a crisp, she practically jumped out of the house an into his arms. “M-Miss Claire?” Shocked, Donny swiftly recovered as he grabbed hold of the young woman.

“You have **GOT** to like, get me away from this like, MAD-HOUSE!” She began dragging him towards his car. “I swear they like, don’t know how to turn down the HEAT!”

Confused, but still a gentleman, Donny opened the passenger side door for her; out of habit he politely followed her orders. It wasn’t until they were almost a half a mile away from the Roadhouse that he realized the situation an abruptly put on the brakes. The car skidded to a stop in the middle of the road jerking both the passengers forward.

“Like, what the _fuc-_ ”

“ _Please_ refrain from using that kind of language around me, Miss Claire.” Donny cut in. Taking a deep breath he relaxed back into the seat. “Now, can you please explain why  & where we are going?”

“I don’t like, know? Like… the Shocking Mall or something.”

“Well, that explains the _where_ …”

“Ugh, like fine, but it’s like, you’re ...funeral? Or whatever.” Claire popped her gum at him. “You would like, **_think_** that with Beetle-butt holed up in the Realworld I’d get some like, peace  & quiet, right? HA! Like, NOoOoOo!”

Donnie turned and looked at her with a questioning stare.

“So like, it turns out Spider-legs & Bonehead have like, a _thing_ for each other and like, neither knows what “GET-A-ROOM” means!” She emphasized by popping her gum again. Listening to Claire, Donny started the beetle-mobile and began driving towards the Shocking Mall, by the time he parked she’d caught him up on the “going-ons” happening at the Roadhouse.

“-and they were like, right there in this weird positi-”

“ ** _WELL_**... I think we’re here Miss Claire…” Donny said with an overly sweet high pitched voice as he cut off whatever place she been going with that particular story. “Shall we go in?” Getting out of the car he went around the side an opened the door for her, extending his hand out.

A blush settled across his cheeks when Claire gripped him to get out of the low-ground vehicle; her warm fingertips brushing against his cold ones. Donny’s face began to heat steadily when he realized she didn’t let go and promptly began to pull him along. Her grip was solid, so he couldn’t let go even if he wanted to, but as they entered the building Donny surprised himself by realizing he didn’t want to. The younger Juice tried very hard to concentrate on anything else besides the implications of holding Claire’s hand out in public.

‘ _This isn’t some kind of …date._ ’ His mind insisted.

In spite of that, his thoughts didn’t shift to thinking about his brother’s relationship, or fixing up the old Renault Fuego he’d found, or even restarting a new “Clean Is Keen” campaign. No, his brain decided to torture him: Donny remembered having snapped after she’d called him a “pervert” at his family’s reunion.

The day would forever be _burned_ into his memory.

The feel of her hands in his as he turned her to a fast paced Latin beat. The sensual way her leg had slid up his thigh; her eyes sparking. The way her lips pouted in defiance, taking deep breaths through her flared nostrils as she pushed her plump chest up against his. The travel of his hands slipping down around her waist, low in a dip. He recalled wanting to drop the young blonde to the floor in the _heat_ of the moment.

‘ _The horizontal Tango as Beetlejuice would put it…_ ’ Donny’s blush became worse turning him an even darker shade of purple. “ _Golly-Goodness_ what’s happening to me?” He said in a whisper.

“Like, what was that DJ?”

Unused to the nickname it took Donny a moment to register ( _and to resurface from his thoughts_ ) that Claire had addressed him. Trying to shake off the flustering feelings, he gave her a not-so-genuine smile and tried to give a believable excuse that he’d said nothing. Thankfully, Claire had bought his poor attempt at lying and they continued on though the mall.

…

Beetlejuice’s mouth hit the floor at the sight of his brother lying, _Donny actually **lying**_ , in front of his face. For a moment he couldn’t believe it. Feeling nauseous ( _thanks to multiple things_ ) Beetlejuice scratched at the weird heart-shaped crown hovering just above his head. He must’ve rubbed too hard because next moment the crown fell off & landed with a ‘cling’ on the ground. Picking the magenta object up, Beetle noticed an inscription on the inside:

_~Spin. Heart. On. Diaper. For. Disguise.~_

“Convenient.” He said to himself. “But what kind of disguise to go with?” Beetlejuice looked ahead of the couple and spotted a familiar color set to spy from.

…

“Seriously like, all these fashion’s are like, Totally Fab.” She had paused in front of the Neitherworld’s most famous designer: Chocó Channel. “I can’t like, believe that I’m like, seeing this right now!”

Pulling Donny up to the store window she pointed to a small simple black dress with black & white striped curtains draped around it. He glanced once at the small outfit for a moment, but his attention had been drawn back to Claire as her face lit up in excitement. Watching as she giggled, bouncing in her sandals, as she rattled off information on the designer.

“…and like, she has this famous perfume that like, just smells amazing!”

“Gee-wiz Miss Claire, she sure sounds like a swell lady.” Donny stated, his hand involuntarily squeezing hers. “I’m sure you’d look _arresting_ in that cute dress.” He didn’t notice any movement from the curtain's display window.

Suddenly, a snobbish woman dressed in rich finery strutted up to them. “You better believe she would! As a matter of fact…” The powder-encrusted face of the woman exclaimed. “…I’m making a _fashion arrest!_ ” A pair of lime green handcuffs popped into existence between Donny & Claire connecting their two hands. “My, my, _Missy_ , you look like you can’t afford decent _makeup_ let alone a proper outfit.” The strange but familiar looking woman then left in a snit; both Claire & Donny staring at her retreating figure in shock.

“Oooh… **_FOPDOODLE!_** ” Immediately Donny’s hands went to cover his mouth.

“Fop-doodle?” Claire repeated confused.

“Miss Claire! Please don’t say such a… _a bad word_. I shouldn’t have said it in the first place but how dare that lady speak you in such a way! Why, it just made want to… to…”

“Like, curse or like, whatever it is you just said?”

“Yes, I’m afraid so.” Donny’s cuffed hand gripped hers. “Miss Claire, if there is one thing that lady said right was that you would …l-look go-good in that dress.”

Claire felt her heart beat.

“You don’t have to answer this, but may I ask why you, who is obviously passionate about fashion, only window shopping?”

“Uh, um…” Her eyes slid to the floor as her face began to heat up in embarrassment. “Like, I may have used what little money I had, you know the money they give you when you like, die… the lady in the waiting room said that it used to be like, for a ferry ride. Anyway, I like, ended up using most of it like, on fireproof furniture.”

“ _Jeepers_ , so that means you’re practically penniless.” Donny said in distressed astonishment.

“ _What?!_ O.P.T.B. No like, of course **not**! I’m a _Brewster_ , and I have like, plenty of dead relatives in the Neitherworld that like, are totally willing to give me money. Plus, I’m like, in the middle of looking for a job so I’m… doing great.” Changing the subject she brought her right hand up, dragging Donny’s left along, and asked: “So how do we like, get these off?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know, Miss Claire.” He finished weakly as they passed a small perfume shop.

“Hiya there, folks! Zoo-wee, call me a _Muckspout_ , but I must say: you may just have yourself a **fine** lady there!” A Western looking man with a full beard ‘clicked’ his spurs on the way out of the perfume shop. “Howdy! The names **LJ** , maker an’ collector of quality products!” The familiar ghost took Donnie’s freehand & shook it vigorously. “Lookin’ ta buy somethin’ for the Missus’?

At the mention of Claire being Donny’s wife he turned a beet-shade of red & began stuttering that they weren’t _together._ Claire had stayed quiet the entire endeavor, mostly because her eyes had locked onto the small box that Mr. LJ had opened for them to see. Inside held a bunch of random objects, mostly tacky baubles, but there was an interesting shaped tube that caught her attention.

“Is that like, lipstick?” Claire said in wonder.

“Yes-sir-y, Bob!”

Claire bit her lip.

“Pardon me, Mr. LJ, but would you mind telling me how much you’d be willing to part with that pink cosmetic?” Donny politely asked.

“Hows’about a cool… hundred?”

“You want like, $100 dollars for that cheap-”

“I’ll take it.” Donny used his free hand to pull out his wallet & proceeded to hand over a lone one hundred dollar bill.

Claire’s mouth hung open in shock, surprised that Donny would even consider the man’s offer. He didn’t even haggle the price down & paid in CASH! After several months’ without Dadsy’s money the Neitherworld had taught her one thing: never pay full retail.

“ _Lonesome Dove_ … if this tenderfoot here isn’t just the right _ol’ **Don** Juan_. Ye-Haw! Pleasure doin’ business! Ya’ll come back now, ya’hear!” The ol’timey swindler hobbled back into the perfume shop.

“Here you are, Miss Claire.” Donny handed her the lip-shaped lipstick. “On another note, I don’t want you thinking than I overpaid. You see, every year on mother’s Death Day I order her one. CoverGhoul lipsticks are usually much pricier than that on account of their color, trust me, they aren’t a mere hundred dollars.”

“Y-You like, shouldn’t have done that…” Claire opened the container, noticing it was brand-new, and marveled at the bright shade of pink. Using her free hand she brought the lipstick to her lips and applied it. She felt a strange tingle-y sensation a moment later and brought her cuffed hand to her lips.

“I, gosh, it wasn’t any trouble really, especially after what that lady said. Also, the color is really nice…i-if green is keen then pink is pa-passionate.” He blushed.

Claire’s eyes widen and her body suddenly started to glow. The surrounding mall started to melt like a Dali painting. Donny himself looked slightly uncomfortable, but he didn’t move, locked in place by her gaze.

“Donny…”

…

Beetlejuice took a moment & slowed time down. He may very well be a fool, but even he knew where things were going. “It’s now or never.” Beetle said to himself in a sullen voice. Maneuvering the bow around he let his hand hover over the quiver attached to his leg. Taking an unneeded shaky breath he weighed his options.

Thinking back, Beetlejuice tried to remember if Donny had ever liked or had someone special when they were apart of the living world, but he couldn’t remember that far back. He knew that Donny had never found love during his afterlife, and it had seemed from the **L I S T** that he was literally unable. Yet, thanks to Beetlejuice’s stupidity, the younger ghost managed to find happiness with ( _what he thought_ ) was the oddest choice in the entire universe.

“Hell, I intended it to be a prank!” Beetlejuice shouted, and then begin cursing out the author who created this tale of his afterlife. “How could a love like Donny & Claire’s work out?” He asked himself. Pondering the question for a moment, a sudden, disturbing thought hit him. “…one could argue, however, how could a love between a mortal & a ghost work.”

When the significance of the answer finally weighed down on his mind it was like letting the hot air out of the balloon. Beetlejuice knew he was in love with Lydia, and he knew that Lydia loved him, but did she love him romantically? If he shot himself with the gold arrow would he be doing justice to their friendship? Unlike his unease with his own relationship, he recognized that all Donny needed was a little push to get him going in the right direction. A blind man could see that these two had _something_ , a chemistry – volatile as it may appear, but it would be a fire that burned slow & hot for the rest of thereafter.

Still, his hand reached for the lead tipped arrow.

…

_Neitherworld Court House._

…

“All rise for the honorable Judge Mental!” Bellowed out Chopper O’Headly; executioner, court officer, and in his spare time – florist.

Everyone in the courtroom stood up with the exception of a horse already standing next to the defendant’s table. Judge Mental, the literal hanging judge, slowly lowered himself into the court room. The nearly-skeletal man scanned the documents on his podium, then looked up and did the same for the room.

“Chopper explain to me why there is a giant ‘S’ on the defendant’s table.” Asked Judge Mental.

“That’s on account of the defendant being a horse, Sir.” Chopper stated plainly.

“That makes no sense.”

“Yes it does, that makes it the horse’s _‘S’table._ ” Off in the background a “Ba-Dun-Tis” could be heard along with several groans.

If Judge Mental had eyeballs he would have rolled them. “I’ve been unliving for two hundred years & it _still_ amazes me how far this world we live in will go to make a **pun!** ”

_~Knock, Knock, Knock~_

“Court is in session!” Bellowed Mental. “Hmmm… I see here today we have a familiar face in court: _Juno of Rome_. You’re late for your court hearing: _**FIVE** years late_.”

“What can I say? I don’t  _gallop_ like I used to.” The aging mare ‘swished’ her tail in annoyance.

“Ahh… I would like to say that I miss your  _long-faced_ humor, but I don’t. At just a glance I can tell that you have no more bargaining chips, Mme. Juno. The fact that you deliberately missed five court summons, and one conjure via witches brew, gives you little to no leeway. Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I would like a five-minute recess.”

“You. Must. Be. Joking.” Judge Mental’s visible teeth ground together.

“I have a little bit of unfinished business to take care of.”

“How much unfinished business could you possibly have that you couldn’t have gotten done in _fifteen years!_ ”

“There is an old friend I need to talk to, I haven’t seen him in quite long a while, but he’s made it here today. And as for my missed summons, you can use your own … _judgement_.” She ‘neighed’ snidely.

Chopper stood stiffly as he heard a low growl coming from the podium above him. A gasp of shock ran to the jurors; some giggling. Mental picked up his gavel and brought his arm back just enough so that it looked like he was going to throw the solid piece of wood at the horses head. Instead, he took a deep sigh and put it back down in its place.

“In the spirit of goodwill, and the fact that you have served the Neitherworld a millennium, I will grant you a five-minute recess. However, when you come back Mme. Juno, this court will send you to the Hereafter!” The Judge’s voice was gravelly & low, with just a hint of malice. He glared at the horse’s slow tread into the recess room.

“Can this day get **any** worse?”


	9. Besides the Unusual

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do NOT own Beetlejuice, and I certainly don’t make any money off of this.
> 
> I’m so happy I got to use the word: literalized.
> 
> So... an update. I'm truly trying to finish all my posted works, just life is always in the way.
> 
> Patience? Sorry.

…

_November 3 th 2002_

…

“Yes, yes it can.”

“But Mr. Schmitty, were you aware that I was in the hospital?”

“Please, just need this _one_ make-up exam…”

“I understand but-”

“I know.”

“Really? Thank you so very much!”

Lydia hung up the phone glad in the knowledge that she now would be able to retake the test she’d missed thanks to her little incident at the Juice household. Thinking of her fainting stint caused her to turn red from embarrassment; she was twenty-seven and _thought_ she knew how to take care of herself. Now she had to deal with the fallout of Bea, Nat, Claire, Donny, but worst of all Beetlejuice himself after seeing her nearly kiss the floor. Thinking of the poltergeist Lydia realized he’d been no short of a spitball away; constantly helping her with things, telling her to relax, and in general just keeping her happy these past few days.

The blush spread across her face, but it was no longer from embarrassment. Bringing her hands together she tried not to think too far down that path. Their “Best Friends” contract basically forbade them from any romantic pursuits. Yet, thinking back, she could count on her hand a few times that they’ve been able to kiss. Most of them due to the “kissing to save one’s life” rule that she’d put in.

Cliché?

Yes, but it was effective.

The goth tried not to think too hard on it. Ever since she’d made a rule that if they had “found” a loophole they weren’t allowed to abuse it. In the back of her mind Lydia knew that there _was_ a loophole they’d been unintentionally using and at the moment she couldn’t figure out what it was. Filing the information away she stretched her back and continued on with her pile of makeup homework.

…

Having just shot his first arrow Beetlejuice ‘poofed’ his way into Lydia small apartment floating just above her coffin coffee-table. Unable to spot his human, Beetle sighed in relief, but then stopped himself when he heard her rummaging around in the bedroom. After debating on whether he should go in and talk to her, Beetle decided instead to take a moment & reflect.

A lot had happened.

Ten years had passed since his first meeting with Cupid. Lydia had graduated high school, gone on the college and pursued fashion and photography, when she graduated they had traveled the world for a year but somehow ended up back in Peaceful Pines. During that time Percy had moved on; the effect of the dying feline having a profound impact on the girl. The next thing he knew, Lydia was filing for college again, this time she was going to study animals, she was going to be a veterinarian.

Thinking on it Beetlejuice realized that it was the perfect job for his Lyds. The girl loved animals and she was a natural at taking care of things: healing. Powers That Be knew she had the patience of a Saint, but all the extra classes, extra work, extra stress had started to run her ragged. It took a lot of pride to admit that part of it was his fault as well. Beetlejuice never liked to admit that anything could be his fault but it seemed lately he’d had several past dues to own up. So he fixed the relationship problem with Donny & Claire and he would fix his own.

Cupid had made his _point_. Literally.

“When did I start becomin’ such an’… **adult**?” He wondered out loud. “Bleguh! What a horrible concept.”

Beetle shook off the gross feeling of “acting his age” and pulled on the small magenta heart in the front of his diaper. His body merged and shifted on its own. When the transformation was complete he floated over to a mirror. For a moment, he’d been rather confused because staring back at him was his old familiar self: the grungy yellow hair, white-purple skin, magenta shirt, black tie, and thick-striped black & white suit in place.

“What the..?” Beetlejuice questioned his copy in the mirror.

“BJ what are you doing here?”

Literally jumping three feet into the air, shocked, he turned upside down in the air & gave curt laugh. “Lyds! Babes, what’s uh, shaken?” He tried to laugh off the fierce feeling of nervousness, but the sound only made him appear as if he’d gotten into trouble.

“I’m just finishing up my homework …what about you?” She asked suspiciously.

“Oh me? Ya know me, I just like _hangin’_ around.”

Nothing happened.

Both Beetlejuice and Lydia looked confused for a moment, but then they remembered that sometimes not all of the ghost’s puns literalized. Lydia shook off the feeling first, but had she been paying attention she would’ve noticed that Beetlejuice tensed up. Instead, the young human walked across the room and took one of Beetlejuice’s hands in hers. She was so excited to tell him the good news.

“My professor said that I could retake my test! Great, right Beej?”

“Yep, sure is, Babes.” He said it through his teeth; trying not to think too hard about the fact that he wasn’t actually himself. ‘ _Dang it! This is just a disguise! I’m still Lovejuice!_ ’ His mind screamed.

“Anyway, was there something you wanted to tell me?” Lydia asked, clasping her hands behind her back, making her usual cute pose.

“Heh… actually there was somethin’ I wanted to… give ya.” He’d started to sweat as he fumbled around his deep pockets to find the odd tube of lipstick. “Ah! Here’s the _little bugger_.”

“Beej, if it’s another bug I swear I’ll-” Lydia was at a loss for words when he produced a small tube in the shape of a pair of lips, the top lip red & the bottom black. “W-What...?” She looked up at him questioningly.

“Before ya say anythin’ this isn’t for nothin’ _special_. I just… happened upon it.” He looked everywhere but at her as he handed the gift over guiltily.

“Deadly Vu!”  Turning the tube over Lydia read over the information. “Cochineal? Clever, and the color is beautiful. Beej, I can’t believe you got me a CoverGhoul lipstick!”

“Yeah, me neither.” He said under his breath, hoping she didn’t hear him.

“I’m go put on right now!” Lydia said excitedly.

He watched as she turned around to go find a different mirror, thankful she didn’t use the one right next to them. With her back turned Beetlejuice pulled open his suit collar and pulled out the remaining arrow. His palms felt sweaty as he gripped the metal rod, holding the arrow head pointed at his heart, wondering if he was doing this right. Time slow down once more as he watched Lydia apply the red lipstick to both of her lips. It would be a new look for her, a nice change.

She would appear more as an adult.

The thought re-killed him.

“I was selfish. I took up fifteen years of your **_life_** …” He said to her even though she probably couldn’t hear him; bracing himself. “…but I’ll be DAMNED to give up everythin’ ya’ve worked hard for, Lyds. Hell, _heh_ , I’d send **myself** to the Negaworld instead of givin’ ya up.”

“ _I love you, Lydia._ ”

Quickly, he pulled his hands to his chest allowing the arrow to find purchase piercing his heart. No sooner did the arrow enter his body did it disappear, just like it did on his brother, leaving only a small hole in his shirt as any suggestion that he’d even stabbed himself. Being dead meant no blood, and because he healed “magically” the open wound closed over just as fast.

Time moved forward.

Beetlejuice made a shotgun decision; advancing on Lydia he gave her no time to move or think. His right hand, the one with his obnoxiously large High Ghoul’s ring, gently grasped the back of her neck as the other wrapped around her waist like a coil. The lipstick Lydia had been holding clatter to the ground as he picked her up only to dip her low to the floor in one smooth motion.

Thereupon, he brought his lips to hers.

…

_Neitherworld Court House._

…

Juno entered the recess room, complete with a sand box, jungle gym, teeter-totter, and scoffed at the predictable setting. Looking down at herself she noticed how not only had she been turned back into her Humanoid form, but that she was wearing the white toga she had wore before passing on. A hint of a smile graced her lips as she sat stiffly on one of the swings.

She had died old, sort of a moronic thing to do, especially when one was already so close to death’s door. It had been a self inflicted stab wound to her throat; one that unknowingly guaranteed her spot in the Afterlife. Shifting her legs her temporal body began to move in a gently motion, back & forth, her eyes examining the old sandals strapped to her withered feet. Like in life, she had unlived for quite a long time, avoiding the inevitable just like her inexorable assistant.

The Hereafter.

The Big H.

Dying a second time and not knowing if she would end up in another world, or another body, without her wits or knowledge to guide her was a most frightening concept. It was made worse by the fact dying once didn’t relieve some sort of tension, it just made her anxious to know there might be more or less to the universe. Her SOUL would disperse, become something, someone, or disappear altogether, but she: Juno of Rome, her essence & personality would finally stop existing altogether.

A true death.

Yet, as scared as she still happened to be, Juno welcomed the change. She had been around a long time, a lot longer if she counted her time spent as a ghost and was _tired_. Perhaps she didn’t care anymore, or she didn’t care enough about losing herself after the final leap of faith. ‘ _No._ ’ She thought. ‘ _Some ..one is holding me back from moving on._ ’ A noise made her looked up just as the door to the room opened slightly.

Juno had one last thing to do before she accepted her end.

Standing in the door was a man dressed in a similar outfit, but he wore an elaborate royal blue toga with gold embroidered hems. His body was a dark tanned orange, blending into pink in certain areas, and his wavy dark russet hair was curled atop his head. Dark auburn eyes zeroed in on her as he strode purposefully forwards. Juno bowed her head slightly when he stopped just short of kicking distance.

“My liege.” Her voice was gravelly but you could still hear the hint of sarcasm.

The ancient Greek ruler didn’t speak, couldn’t with the much larger and deeper gash cut across his throat. Nero lifted his hand up, palm down, fingers curled slightly inward as he waved for her to come to him. He then tapped his lower lip; expressing that he needed to speak with her. It had been a while since Juno had been “talked to” with the use of these old hand gestures.

“Yes, I imagine you wish to speak with me, we have only five minutes though, and you’re wasting them along with my patience.”

Nero’s eyes widened, and then slanted into a smug look, the corners of his mouth lifting into a possessive smile. He wiggled his dark eyebrows at her.

“My, my, how the years have passed…” She leaned her head of the chain of the swing. “Nero.”

The sound of his name caused a violent reaction, his body, suddenly poofed in a large cloud of pink smoke and tiny hearts. With the magic having worn off, Nero – now Cupid, stood before Juno in his cherubim appearance. His smile widened as he bit down on the Blue Lotus Stogie, sucking in the fragrance, Nero blew out a cloud of light blue smoke that curled around Juno’s aged spirit.

The cloud dispersed.

Cupid’s wings stopped working as his small body dropped to the floor at the sight of her. No longer did an ageing old woman sit on the swing, but a young vibrant woman with medallion yellow hair. The toga had re-proportioned itself to fit her slightly larger slender form, but her light brown eyes gave away her years.

He couldn’t look away.

“Juno…” Nero spoke her name like a small prayer up to the Gods. His dark-heart shaped shades sliding down off his nose.

Juno snorted. “Comical.” She kicked the ground with her small smooth skinned feet. “After all this time you still haven’t learned your lesson.”

“You were beautiful… you had the Sight… you could _see me_ …” Cupid trailed off his eyes glued to her swaying body.

“Yes, and I shouldn’t have been so damn curious. NEVER trust the living!” She said to him, and then jumped off the swing with ease and grace. “I _waited_ for you, for a very, very LONG time! I performed an act that landed me HERE! _You have no words that could sway me!_ ”

“I said I was …sorry.” He looked down in shame. “I didn’t know that our love was forbidden, and by the time I could make it so-”

“I was old.” She huffed. “Yet still I died for you. I suppose I wasn’t the first, hardly considering your actions when alive, but the punishment of LOVE should have kept you in check.” Even young, the small hole in her trachea showed, and some of her exhausted breath escaped out. “I need a cigarette.”

Cupid watched as a small thin cigarette appeared in her hand; she lit it with her other hand and took a long puff of smoke that seeped out of her incision. Turning three shades of red Nero steeled his resolved to move forward with his plan. His hand reached into his quiver and pulled out the last remaining arrow he had. He’d been hording this arrow ever since the honor had been bestowed upon him by the Real Cupid.

“I accepted my role as a Cupid to make up for my horrendous actions my mortal self issued, but believe me when I say that I loved you from the moment I saw you.”

“Love at first sight, huh? I shouldn’t have been so stupid, forgotten about you, lived my life with some obtuse general.” Juno took another drag. “I was SEVENTY-EIGHT! I couldn’t wait anymore…” Dropping the smoking remains of her cigarette she stomped it out, eyes downcast. “… and you look ridiculous.”

“You think so? This is the new standard outfit.” He tried to joke, feeling confident when she gave him a small smile. “I- I have something for you…” Slowly he showed the arrow to her and quickly she grabbed it from him.

“What is this?”

“An arrow of LOVE. There are five standard…” He rambled. “…Black for CARE, Lead for BORE, Silver for LURE, Gold for TRUE, and …Steel for …SAVE.”

“Steel you say…” Juno looked towards him. “What do you mean by SAVE? What are you planning on doing with this?”

“If struck with a Steel-tipped arrow, the recipient will be eternally in love with the person whom kisses them thereafter.” He explained. “The effects transcend death itself, both recipients able to find each other even after their departure, working regardless of the limits set by the dead or the living.” Cupid’s outstretched hands move frantically, gesturing towards her and the arrow. “I came to… I was hoping to use this arrow. With its power, The Powers That Be couldn’t interfere. You wouldn’t have the threat of the Hereafter and not a single entity or otherwise could erase your existence. We could live in this world together Juno-” He choked up. “…y-you wouldn’t pass on.”

“And the other arrows?” She asked, throwing him off.

“Uh… Black is for basic love, puppy love I call it. Lead is for disinterest or aversion. Silver is selfless, self sacrificing love –  I had quite a time using that one on a young _Corpse Bride_ – and Gold is true love, unconditional, but won’t last beyond death.” He shrugged his shoulders, pandering to her curiosity. "J-Just so you know in order for the TRUE and SAVE love to work, a kiss must seal in the power of the arrows magic, so I, um, hope you brought chap-stick..." 

“I see, well then I may just have to take up your offer.” Juno gave him a sly smile; she made the gesture as if to throw the projectile back to his waiting hands. She watched amused as Cupid opened his hand outstretched towards her. “However, I can’t. You’ll have to let poor old Rudi know that I can't _trial_ his patience. I don’t want to keep him _hanging_ * _snort_ * any longer.”

“W-What? Oh you mean the Judge? His name is Rudi… Rudi Mental … _rudimental_?”

_***Ba-Dum-Tiss***_

“It’s short for Rudolph.” She laughed at his sour face. “Ah, I will miss this place.” Juno said with a calm breath. “You know, I’ve had plenty of time to put everything in order, but it’s not my affairs that are keeping me here. It’s nothing to do with you either, Nero or Cupid or whatever you decide to call yourself nowadays.”

“But-” Cupid started to look a bit panicked. ‘ _Everything is fine; if she used the arrow it will have the desired effect._ ’ His brain tried to reassure him, and yet there was a nagging feeling pulling at his heartstrings.

“No, it is me, I’m the one keeping myself here and it’s all because of my worry for that _boy_ …” She looked off at the exit sign over the door leading to the court room. “He’s like the son I wouldn’t let myself have. I’d followed that scoundrel ever since he showed up in my office soaking wet in nothing but his birthday suit.” She laughed at the memory. “But my motherly love for him needs to leave my heart & in order to do that I’ll be requiring the use of a LEAD arrow.”

“You- …no, I’ve already given it away. There’s no way I would let you have it anyway, I’ve waited too long for you Juno, and you don’t get a choice in this! Don't you see? We can still be together!” He said it desperately, frantic though his thoughts felt justified.

“Oh my darling, you never were good with metals…” Juno sighed. "Let us meet again in the years after."

Bringing up the arrow, time seemed to slow down for the two ghosts inside the tiny room. Cupid’s eyes widened as he finally took a good panicked look at her weapon & aim. Her small, strong hand came down fast, puncturing her heart with the LEAD arrow she held in her hands and thought of nothing but her annoying assistant over the last six hundred years plus. His image started to remove itself from her mind, her maternal care for the Ghost With The Most melting away, and with it so did her SOUL finally feel free, ready to move on.

Juno of Rome disappeared onto the Hereafter.


End file.
